


Magic and Mind

by Preelikeswriting



Series: Through the Gate [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Death Eaters are not nice people, Gen, Hurt/Occasional Comfort, Werewolves Have Golden Eyes, some gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-07 05:50:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 42
Words: 110,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11052627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Preelikeswriting/pseuds/Preelikeswriting
Summary: Of all things Edward was prepared for as the day of reckoning grew near, being transported from one world on the edge of war to another was not one of them.AKA: Edward gets accidentally summoned by Death Eaters, and neither party is happy.(Pre-Promise Day, HP book 5)





	1. Out of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Magic and Mind has art now! Go check out Jo's [work](http://jo-crimes.tumblr.com/post/178910852567/yall-ever-read-magic-and-mind-cause-that-shit-is)   
> and just, all of their stuff in general because it's awesome

Ed sagged against the chains holding him up, his head foggy from the pain coming off his slumps. With his wrists pulled apart like they were, transmutation was out of the question. Something his captors had made certain of after his first attempt to escape. A cough rattled deep in his chest. The dungeon they had thrown him in was cold and wet, and with his automail it made it almost impossible for him to get warm.

Ed’s head perked up as he heard the sound of the door at the end of the hall opening, the massive barrier creaking on its hinges. He almost sighed as the movement brought in a wave of fresh air. The sweet air was such an improvement over the musty, damp stuff he had been breathing for the past... _ week? Two weeks?  _ He had no way of knowing in the windowless place, that he almost missed the hushed word of command that cut through the black.

“ _ Lumos.”  _

Suddenly there came a bright burst of light from a little ways down the hallway. The white glow blinding to Ed’s eyes that had seen nothing but darkness since the last time he had been brought water…  _ a day ago?  _ Even footsteps made their way up the passage between the cells that lined the walls growing steadily nearer. 

The command and sudden appearance of light seemed to coincide with the strange alchemy the men that had put him here had done, but he hadn’t seen any of the them since his escape attempt. So far, anytime he got gotten water and the few occasions he had received food, it had been brought by the strange silent humanoid chimeras that as far as Ed could tell were able to disappear and reappear at whim.

The footsteps grew closer and closer until they walked right past him,the lights intensity whiting out his vision momentarily as the figure passed.

“Please…” he managed to croak out of his parched throat. “Please, where am I? What do you want from me-” had words were cut off by a bout of coughing that would have had him doubled over if not for his shackles. When he opened his eyes again the light was back and he could just see the outline of a mans figure. With a loud crash the door lock blew and the man pushed into the cell. 

“-orry, I know the lights bright.” came the man's voice quietly, and Ed realized the man had been been talking to him but his ears had still been ringing from the small explosion. “This is going to take a second the chains are enchanted.” after a moment the man mumbled something and he found the chain on his automail side release, automatically unbalancing him.

“Woah! Easy there kid, I’ve got you.” the second chain released and the man was all that kept Ed from completely crumpling to the ground. “Easy, easy.” the man murmured as he lowered him to the ground. Ed limbs were on fire as blood became free to move about his limbs freely again and he found himself gasping as he jarred his shoulder port on his way down.

“Are you alright?” the man asked, the genuine concern in his voice took him by surprise and he nodded. He wasn’t okay, not really, but saying he wasn’t wouldn’t help him now.

“Thank you.” he choked out into the darkness, the man having set the light off to the side so it wouldn’t blind him.

“No need for that,” the man murmured to him. “I’m not a big fan of cells myself.”

Ed flexed the fingers in his automail hand to insure the prolonged hanging hadn’t broken it. It functioned well enough, but he couldn’t remember it ever feeling so heavy. He went to open his mouth to ask the man's name when a familiar loud crack rang throughout the cell. The man whipped around to face the sound and Ed caught a glimpse of dark black hair. One the chimera creatures stood frozen, it’s eyes impossibly wide as it looked at them, in it’s hands was clutched Ed’s water. As quickly as it appeared it disappeared leaving the man and Ed in stillness both of them frozen in silence. Then it happened, the earsplitting alarm sounded and Ed felt the man's hands on him, pulling him to his feet. 

“Come on kid we have to go, I can’t disapparate till we leave the property.”

Ed groaned as the man threw his flesh arm over his shoulder and began to move. They made it through the dark hall, and up the stairs before they encountered any opposition, however the moment they made it into the upper corridor there were men on their heels.

“Fuck!” the man hissed as he ran practically dragging him along after. “Come on kid, you can do it! You've got to work with me!” he'd gasped as he just barely managed to keep Ed from falling. 

The men gained on them quickly hurrying wave after wave of blasts of light after them with the man answering in kind. Ed grit his teeth and tried not to think about how much what he was about to do was going to hurt. Jerking himself away from the man despite his stated attempt to grab hold of him, he slammed his hands together and into the wall, impacting hard. The transmutation connected however and the wall shot out sealing them off from their pursuers.

Ed gasped as he felt his newly healed stomach wound to rip open again. He could almost picture Greed scolding him for his recklessness.  _ What do you think you're doing Pipsqueak?! I’m not sure if you remember but you belong to me now. You’re not allowed to kill yourself pulling a stupid stunt like that.  _

“-hit shit shit.” the man hissed as he pressed his hands to where the blood had begun to pour from. “What was that? How did you do that?!” he demanded as he lifted his head to scan the rest of the hallway.

“That was called disobeying a doctor's direct order.” Ed said with a quiet laugh.

“Thanks not what I-”

“That wall won’t hold them for long, we need to go.” Ed said as he moved to sit up.

The man pushed him back down however. “Are you crazy? You can’t move right now!”

“We have to-” Ed was cut off by a loud cry of,

“Sirius!” Ed turned to see another man rushing down the corridor towards them.

“Jesus.” the man said as he took in the sight of Ed lying on the floor, and quickly knelt at his side.

“What happened?” the new man asked addressing who Ed assumed to be Sirius.

“Not sure, think he just ripped something old open. He’s not in great shape.” Ed wanted to protest to being treated like he wasn’t even there, but his vision had begun to spark and he couldn’t quite muster up the energy.

The new arrival pushed up Ed’s soiled white shirt and pulled out the same style conductor he had seen the others carrying. “ _ Tergeo,”  _  the man said, and Ed watched in shock as the overflowing blood was wiped away. _ “Ferula.”  _ the edges of his skin seemed to knit back together, and to his utter horror bandages began to appear and wrap around his torso.

The man seemed to take his gasp as one of pain and muttered his apologies. When the bandages finished their work, the man and Sirius pulled Ed upright taking his arms over their shoulders. They managed to make it to a door leading out into what Ed presumed to be a patio, before a loud crash told his their pursuers had managed to bring down his wall. Luckily for Ed it was night, and the low light was easier on his still adjusting eyes allowing him to see the rapidly approaching gate that they were aiming for.

The moment they passed through there Ed could  _ feel _ the difference. It wasn’t something he could really describe, more like the absence of something he had felt from the moment he had been dragged through the portal. then , before he could truly process it, the peaceful feeling was pulled from out under him as he was jerked back into nothingness. As his feet his the ground somewhere other then he just was he doubled over the horrible feeling in his stomach finding it’s way into his throat as he retched onto the wooden floor he knelt on. 

Sirius was at his side in a moment placing a solid hand on the back of his neck as his arms struggled to hold him up. Commotion sounded around them and he could hear a door crash open behind him accompanied by the sound of yelling drawing nearer. Sirius’s voice rose and Ed felt his grip tightened before Ed found himself shoved roughly away from him and into a wall, his head cracking against the surface painfully.

A heavily scarred man with a wild eye that seemed to move of it’s own accord held him up with one hand, while the other shoved another of the stick like conductors at his throat. The man growled something loudly at him, bits of spit landing on Ed’s face as Sirius appeared at the man's side and attempted to pull him off. A man in all black strode quickly into the room as a red headed woman yelled, her voice mixing with Sirius and the mans. Sights and sounds blurred together chaotically until all he could feel was black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay folks, this is my first attempt at a loooong fic, and in fact this might stretch into two one three fics in a series. I'm going try to keep updating weekly so I'll see you next week!


	2. Recollection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed remembers the events leading up to his capture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to anyone who commented last chapter you have idea how happy it makes me! Hope you enjoy this next chapter too.

The energy crackled around the inn room like a lightning storm, bolts of multi-colored transmutation energy danced along the wall. Ed pressed against the far wall trying to avoid the rapidly expanding pit of white that threatened to pull him in. The door across the room slammed open loudly revealing Greed, his black coat flapping wildly in the wind of the transmutation. Hankel and Darius quickly joined him on the threshold, their eyes wide.

**“Kid! What is this?!”** Greed shouted against the roar of the transmutation.

“I don’t know! But stay back or it’ll suck you in!” Ed cried out waving them away from the edge as he searched for a way out.

**“Can you make it over to us?!”**

“I’m not sure! But definitely not if I wait much longer.” Ed yelled across, as he backed up as far as could to give himself a running start.

Greed nodded poised to grab him, and Edward pushed off. Immediately he could feel he had misjudged. The pull of the pit was too great and he fell in, just missing the opposite side. Greed lunged forward snagging his wrist as he fell, Ed’s Automail shoulder jerked painfully as he swung in towards his friends.

**“I’ve got you, you little runt.”** Greed growled as he began to pull Ed up. The sin grit his teeth against the pull of the white void as it yanked harder, intent on dragging Ed down. Heinkel and Darius grabbed hold of Greed as he began to slip towards the pit’s edge more and more.

It felt as if his Automail would rip straight out of him, and he couldn’t help the small moan of pain when a particularly strong wave of the pull hit. Ed looked up at their strained faces as they attempted to keep him up, Greed was beginning to slip and the pit was still growing. Ed frantically calculated his options as he could see himself slipping from Greed’s grasp. He looked up and locked eyes with the Homunculus, and he saw his friends eyes widen.

**“Don’t you dare…”**

He never heard the end of Greed’s threat, there was a feeling of weightless before something crashed against him. Then all he knew was darkness. The next thing Ed saw was the hard marble floor he was laying on. 

Ed jerked upright dragging in a deep breath, wincing at the ache in his side where the beam had impaled him a few weeks back. He rolled over onto his back and glanced around the dark room he lay in. With it’s high arching ceiling, it was built much like the room the state certification tests had taken place in. The largest noticeable difference was the enormous transmutation circle he lay in, taking up roughly a third of the room. It’s outside covered in sprawling writing similar to the archaic writing that often decorated the ones used by Xerxes's Alchemists. Most pressing however, was the twenty odd robed figures lining the outside of the circle. 

“Who are you?!” He demanded as he staggered to his feet and marched towards the edge of the array. “Who do you work for? Father? The Homunculi?” 

“It's only a child?” He heard one of them ask, the man sounding confused. Ed shrugged the comment off and kept going.

“Well this child is about to kick your ass if you don’t start answering his questions!” Ed yelled out as he reached the edge of the circle. 

Edward moved to cross the boundary of the circle only to crash headlong into a wall of pure energy. Ed stumbled back disoriented from the shock, and narrowed his eyes at what appeared to be empty space in front of him. Carefully he placed a hand in front of him and pushed outward. The moment his hand made contact with the invisible wall, the air in front of him flared blue in tandem with the outer edge of the transmutation circle. As he pressed harder He felt a sort of  _ thrum  _ of energy that traveled from the wall into him, similar to the feeling he got when he performed a transmutation. 

The figures surrounding him began to mutter to one another, some of them drawing strange looking sticks from within their robes, but Ed paid them not heed. He focused of the energy surrounding him, caging him in and keeping him from escaping.  _ Okay, think it through.  _ He thought as he turned his attention to the problem at hand.  _ Mustang can play the long game all he wants, go ahead and contemplate his circumstances before acting. But not me, quick solutions to immediate issues is my territory. This is what I’m good at. _

If the outer edge of his glove had passed through the wall, he would know it was only meant to keep organic matter inside. In which case he could simply transmute the floor apart and break the circle. He was almost positive was generating the wall. But his grove stayed firmly on his side of the wall, so that didn’t seem to be the case.  _ and seeing as I can feel the energy making a sphere around me, there would be no use trying to tunnel my way out. But what if I... _

Ed froze, an idea coming to him. Hesitantly he raised his other hand to the wall and fell the energy pass through his body, like a circuit completing. The feeling synonymous to the moment his hands touched when he clapped to perform a transmutation.  _ And if my theory is right… _ he thought as he mentally pulled the energy in front of him apart so that the channel flowed only through him…  _ There! _ The barrier moved to conect to him rather than contain him. The energy moving through Ed as he used his body to conduct the flow. He felt a cocky grin spread across his face as he took a step forward and met no resistance.  _ Now it’s the moment before my hands hit the ground!  _

One of the robbed men strode forward and pointed the strange stick thing at him and hissed out something Ed didn’t understand. The stick sending a flash of red light his direction, hitting him square in the chest and he winced as a sudden influx of energy entered the circuit.

“ _ STUPIFY!”  _ the man cried out again, the same strange burst of energy shooting forward at him.  _ Stupify?  _ Ed wondered as he again absorbed the force of the energy.  _ Like as in “to be struck stupid”? Is he... trying to stun me? _

“Try something else!” cried out another man. “We can’t let it escape!”

_ What is this? I’ve never even heard of Alchemy like this before!  _ Ed was suddenly stopped in his tracks, finding himself unable to move any further. He could feel the tension in the energy barrier, and knew that it was only seconds away from snapping back and dragging him, as part of the wall, with it. He grit his teeth almost painfully as he quickly tried to run through his options of escape. He needed to drop the wall, that much was certain, but the second he dropped it Ed had a feeling the strange attacks he’d been facing from the robed men would suddenly be a lot more effective without the wall to dilute them.

“Damn it!” he hissed as the tension became too much and he threw off the wall and darted forward.

“ _ EXPULSO!”  _ someone shouted to his left and he felt himself picked off his feet and thrown into the near wall. He absorbed the hit with his automail shoulder, jarring the stump painfully again but likely sparing him a broken arm. He barely managed to make it to his feet when he was struck with yet another blast of energy, this one causing his body to seize up suddenly knocking him to the ground. Edward desperately tried to move as he heard the sound of the robed figures running towards him but to no avail.

“Maybe it is what we were expecting after all!” came a loud voice as he felt his side nudged with the toe of someone's shoe. “Two stunners to the heart isn’t something normal people can just shrug off.”

Another man laughed as he landed a solid kick to Ed’s injured side. “Just in a bit of a smaller package then we were expecting!” Ed felt an enraged scream building in his throat, but it was forced down by his locked jaw. His stomach dropped as one of the men said another of the command words and he felt himself lifted into the air. Ed’s eyes widened as his body drifted after the man with seemingly no regards for the laws of physics.

_ Who are these people?  _ He thought desperately as his stiff limbs were manhandled into shackles and he was locked away. The man who brought him there laughed as he struggled inside his own body.

“Don’t worry kid, body binds don’t last too long.” he paused as a grin spread across his face, “Of course, when it fades that’ll probably be worse in the long run. Won’t be anything left to help hold you up.” He reached over and flicked Ed’s left arm. “Even with the bit of muscle you have on you, it’s gonna hurt like there’s no tomorrow!” Then he left, leaving Ed frozen in the dark.

\-----

With a gasp Ed jerked upright his eyes taking in his unfamiliar setting, his muscles tensing for an attack. Sitting next to him in the faded looking guest room was one of the oldest men Ed had ever seen. His beard was impractically long, and he had eyes that twinkled creepily like General Grumman’s sometimes did. Ed’s skin crawled when the man’s eyes met his, and he frowned. He could practically feel the power radiating off him. He was like the sun, be near him for too long and he'd burn you. 

But Ed wasn't scared of being burned by the sun, he'd survived much worse.


	3. Through the Looking Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late update, I've gotten busy with work but I hope to keep these coming out regularly. This one's a little on the short side.

Ed hadn’t taken his eyes off the man since he woke up. While it was hardly the first time he had woken up somewhere he didn’t remember falling asleep, (i.e. hospitals, Mustang’s office couch, more hospitals…) it was certainly his first time waking up to find a man like this watching over him. Now that his initial burst of adrenaline had faded, it was made painfully clear to Ed that something was off about the building he was in. Everything seemed to have a weird hum to it, even the old man. It reminded him of the wall of transmutation energy he had run into with the robed men, but more muted. It flowed in uninterrupted streams all around him, circulating around the house. With so much untapped energy surrounding him it was almost overwhelming. 

“Where am I?” Ed asked guardedly.

The old man gave him a kind smile. “Safe my boy, you have nothing to fear here.”

Ed narrowed his eyes as the old man deflected his question, but backed off on mentioning the snub until he was more sure of this man's motivations. “Can you tell me how I got here? I’m kinda... fuzzy on all the details.”

“The man who found you, works under me-”

“Sirius right? I think that’s what the other guy called him.”

“That is correct. He and his companion got you out of the cells and pulled you across the property boundary line and were able to apparate you here. Not so kind on your head I’m afraid, but far preferable to letting the Dark Lord's men catch you three.”

Ed ran through the information in his head, trying to fill in the blanks left by the roughness of his escape and to help him establish what he had gotten dragged into. One part in particular jumped out at him in the old man’s brief summary, the mention of the Dark Lord and his men.  _ So that’s who those bastards were…  _ Not that he knew who they were, but it was nice to have a name to match to the face so to speak.

“Now then,” said the man said, startling Ed out of his thoughts. “Before we go any further, may I ask your name?”

Ed hesitated as the man extended his right man out to shake, not wanting to crush the man’s fingers in his automail. Carefully he reached out and took the man's hand focusing on keeping the unfeeling limb from applying to much pressure. “Edward Elric.” It was like touching a live wire, and Ed was instantly on guard.

“Albus Dumbledore.” The man gave him another one of those smiles, the kind that hovered somewhere between sympathetic and knowing and thoroughly creeped Ed out.

Dumbledore shifted so that he was facing Ed dead on and looked him in the eyes. Instantly he felt the pressure around him increase, Albus’s energy poking and prodding like it was searching for an entrance. Ed pulled backwards trying to get away from the subtle probing. Dumbledore’s bright blue eyes were wrinkled in concentration and Ed felt the pressure increase again. A sharp pain spiked behind his eyes. Ed clung to his head, his pulse beating loudly in his ears as the foreign power continued its onslaught. 

“Stop that!” he yelled out at as he tried to claw away the intruding force. “What are you doing? Stop that!”

Ed saw Dumbledore grimace before the pressure increased again, and all at once it was like a dam broke in his mind and it all came rushing in. His vision whited out for a moment then snapped back as flashes of memory speed past him in rapid succession. 

_ The Transmutation Circle surrounded by the wall of energy… _

_ Clinging to Greed’s hand before he fell… _

_ The mine and the beam that had almost killed him…  _

Faster now as Ed struggled to gain purchase in his own mind. Clinging to fragments, trying to stop the flow.

_ Scar… _

_ Nina... _ **_NO!_ ** **GET OUT OF MY HEAD!**

_ Mustang tossing him his pocket watch with a grin… _

_ Mustang hauling him up by his shirt, shouting that he knew what they had done… _

_ The Basement, Al gone, the monster they created clawing at nothing, it's decomposing in human body _ **NO!** **_GET OUT! I DON’T WANT TO SEE THIS!_ **

Ed threw himself out of his head, tearing out the foreign energy with him. Gasping he pressed his back to the wall watching Dumbledore with wide eyes. Sweat covered his hands and face and his body shook with the force of fighting and ejecting the energy. The old man looked surprised and alarmed, by what Ed wasn’t sure. But he was sure that Dumbledore was responsible for the mental attack. 

The old man moved to stand, and Ed lunged to the side in panic drawing a spear out of the wall and thrust it between himself and Dumbledore. His body humming with adrenaline and power, his energy added to what was preexisting in the wall creating a rush of transmutation energy stronger than anything Ed had ever experienced before. Albus raised his hands slowly in a show of surrender that meant nothing to Ed, with what the boy knew he could accomplish with just his eyes.

“Put the spear down Edward.”

“No.” Ed growled out as he tightened his grip on the spear. “Who are you people, what do you want from me?!”

“We don’t want anything from you Edward-”

_ “ _ Then  _ why _ did you do that?!”

“We needed to make certain you weren't sent here to work against us.”

“ _ What?  _ Work against you? I don’t even know who you are!” his blood pounded furiously in his ears as he tried to maintain some semblance of control of the situation.

“That wouldn’t matter.”

“What are you-” Ed was cut off.

“It doesn’t matter if you knew who we were or not, because we had no way of insuring that you were the one in control.” He paused, “My intention was only to see if you were an  Imperiused accomplice of the Death Eaters who were holding you. I did not mean to intrude so far into your mind Edward, it was an unintentional reaction due to the force with which was necessary to break through your mental barriers.”

Ed knit his brow shaking his head as he stepped forward leveling his spear at the old man’s chest. “ _ Who are you people?” _

The man only hesitated for a second, “We are the Order of the Phoenix Edward, and are all that stands between the Dark Lord and total control.”

Ed didn’t know who this Dark Lord was, didn’t know what it meant to be Imperiused, but, it was clear to him from the way Dumbledore said these things that he was supposed to. Which begged the question  _ Where was he? _ No part of Amestris hummed with this much energy, and it was far too warm to be Drachma. Furthermore if he was in Creta or Aerugo he was still a fairly famous military figure, his name would have garnered some reaction when he had given it out. Not Xing obviously, the buildings and people weren’t right for there or any of the smaller countries to the east. Could he be in Donpachi? From what little he could remember about the country to Creta's west he was fairly certain it was largely forested with most of its cities located along its ports. It was a nation of traders and merchants, hardly the place one would expect a Dark Lord to take up residence. 

“Edward we mean you no harm, and I sincerely hope you mean the same to us.” He paused as he lowered his hands to rest at his sides. “I am sorry about entering your mind without permission, and I know that something like that could make it very hard for you to trust me. But, whatever you might think of me, know that if you stay with us, we will keep you safe.”

He didn’t trust Dumbledore or the Order but he needed a way of knowing what was going on, and right now this seemed the best way to get what he wanted. Edward felt a pit grow in his stomach as the now familiar feeling of stepping into the lion's den rolled over him. It had been a while, working with Greed’s gang had been a breath of fresh air in that sense. Now it seemed he was back it looking over his shoulder and peaking around corners at every turn. Even better, he didn’t even have Al to watch his back this time. After a moment Ed nodded slowly, relaxing his grip on the spear. 

Reaching back Ed slowly replace the spear back into the wall he had taken the material from. Dumbledore gave him a soft smile at Ed’s choice and stepped towards the door. 

“Come along Edward, I believe Molly’s made stew for dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up rewriting Ed's interrogation a bunch of times not really sure how I wanted it to go down. I eventually decided to go this route even if Dumbledore is super hard for me to write. Hopefully it turned out decent enough.  
> See you in the next chapter.


	4. One step froward, One leap back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward: Magic doesn't exist, everything can be explained
> 
> Me: Yes, but sometimes the explanation is magic.

Dumbledore led Edward to the kitchen where others sat eating. His mouth watering at the smell of the food as his stomach suddenly remembering how hungry he was. It was all Ed could do to keep from sprinting into the room when the gentle looking woman waved him inside with a smile. She ladled him up a bowl and instructed him to go grab a seat at the table. The large table that dominated most of the room was set for four, with an empty chair left for him next to…  _ Sirius!  _ Ed grinned at the sight of the familiar face. On the other side of the table from Sirius sat the second man he had met during his escape, looking just as worn down as he had back then. Sirius waved and flashed Ed a smile as he sat down next to him, and scooted a loaf of bread towards Ed with a thumbs up.

“Professor, are you not staying for dinner?”  He turned to see Dumbledore still standing in the hallways outside the kitchen. 

“I'm afraid I have business elsewhere Molly.” He replied politely. “Perhaps another night.” The woman nodded and walked with him to the door.

Ed was relieved to see the Old man go, he could feel himself relaxing as the man grew farther and farther away, the violent energy dissipating to a humm.

Ed turned as he felt Sirius tap his shoulder. “Sirius Black.” His hand was outstretched for a greeting as an easy smile resting on his face.

Ed only hesitated long enough to swallow down the bite in his mouth before returning the handshake. “Edward Elric.” Unlike with Dumbledore he didn't get the sense he was signing some sort of contract with the greeting. 

The man from across the table extended his arm out as well giving Ed a better look at the man. Everything about him seemed somewhat muted and grey, like he had gone too many nights without sleep. But he smiled kindly nonetheless and Ed gladly accepted his hand. 

“Remus Lupin.”

“Nice to meet you Remus.”

“Molly Weasley,” said the woman from where she stood stirring the stew. “It's nice to meet you dear.”

Ed smiled back at her and began to relax as he continued eating. The excess energy still hummed all around him, but it was much less overwhelming than it had been when he had initially woke up. It he concentrated it was like he could feel a slight pulse of energy coming from each of the other members of the room, but nothing like the overwhelming power that had radiated off Albus. It was almost relaxing being able to feel everyone and in relationship to him.  _ It's kinda like that ‘reading the dragon's pulse’ thing Ling talked about _ . He thought to himself as he finished his stew.

“So, obviously not Hogwarts, Albus and Remus would have recognized you if you were, so… Durmstrang?” 

“Um?-” Ed glanced at the men in confusion as they continued to talk over him. 

“Nah, you don't seem like a Durmstrang student to me,” Sirius continued. “You don’t have the right temperament. And Beauxbatons is completely out of the question… so Ilvermorny?”  

“Sirius, does he sound American to you?” Interjected Remus, “he sounds closer to German to me.”

“So Koldovstoretz?”

“That's Russian not German.”

The two continued to shout out suggestions to each other as Ed leaned across the table to Molly. 

“What on earth are those two yelling about?”

She laughed quietly “they’re trying to guess which school you studied at. Sirius was impressed by what you did when you three escaped.”

“Yeah! And I want to know where a little sprout like you could have learned it!”

“Hey!-”

“Are there anymore European schools that i’m forgetting-”

“You boy could just ask him you know.” Molly said with a sigh. 

“But where would be the fun in that?” Sirius said waving off the suggestion. The two man continued to throw ideas around, each ‘school’ with a more ridiculous name then the last. With an exaggerated sigh Ed waved his hand at the men to catch their attention. 

“Would this be a good time to mention that I haven't been to school since I was nine?” he interjected. 

The adults were struck silent. Ed begun to regret his comment as they began to look at him like he had grown a second head. In all honesty Ed didn’t know anyone who had gone to school for Alchemy, the best educational option had always been an apprenticeship.

“Wait why?” Sirius asked, confusion painted across his face.

“Sirius…” Ed glanced over to see Remus shake his head in his friends direction. Sirius glanced at Ed, his eyes fixed on his own for a moment before widening and glancing away. Ed leveled his vision at them glancing between the two of them trying to see what it was that he had missed. 

“Well!” came Molly’s voice, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had spread through the room. “Edward, why don’t I show you around house dear. It’s better you come with me now then explorer on your own, and risk stumbling across something nasty!”

“Alright?” Ed said confused as he rose to follow the woman. He sent an quick wave over his shoulder at the two men before hustling after the woman up the stairs.

The house truly was something else. It’s carved banisters, and maccabe decorations reminded him of his own taste is design but twisted. He paused in disgust as they passed a row of the mounted heads of the creature that had brought him food when he had been imprisoned.

“A… remnant of the previous occupants of the house.” Ed started as Molly’s voice came from behind him. “We’ve been working to take it all down, but most of it’s cursed so it’s been slow going.”

Ed hummed in response, noting the woman’s strange use of the word cursed. As they moved deeper into the house Molly pointed out rooms along the way and listed off who occupied them. Two of the rooms it seemed were dedicated to housing four of her children, a number of kids he already found impressive before the woman offhandedly mentioned that her ‘three oldest were living on their own these days, but might pass through from time to time’. After that his respect for the woman increased ten fold. Considering how much trouble he and Al had been growing up without trying, he couldn’t imagine have five other siblings.

Another room that pecked his interest was the one that ‘belonged to Buckbeak’ and ‘if he ever wanted to go in there, he best be sure Sirius was with him’, the numerous rooms he had been told to not enter, and an attic library that, Ed was fairly certain he should just drag his bed into now because it was clear that it was were he would be spending the bulk of his time. 

Ed trailed after Molly as they walked along the second floor of the house heading back to kitchen

Making plans for how to use his time to figure out what had happened to him, where he was, and why the ‘Death Eaters’ as Molly had called them, were interested in him so much. 

“So you’re the one all the fuss was about last night.” Ed whirled around to face the voice only to find no one standing behind him. Ed narrowed his eyes his muscles tensing at the prospect of an unseen enemy.

“Come on boy, are you blind? Or did your mother never teach you to back eye contact when you speak to someone.” Ed froze as the portrait in front of him shot him an irritated look _ an irritated look! Pictures can’t shoot you looks!  _ Ed frozen as the man in the painting raised an eyebrow a him, clearly waiting for a response.  _ A response! A painting wants me to respond to it! _ Ed thought hysterically his brain struggling to come up with some way, some transmutation that could make this possible.  _ Even with a stone this isn’t possible! The stones an sustain Homunculi but this? Giving sentience to a non sentient thing? Nothing can do this. _

Edward wasn’t even aware of his feet carrying him backwards until he heard Molly call out to him, her voice laced with concern.

“Edward dear, is everything alright?”

Ed’s mouth was hopelessly dry as he searched for how to put to words what he was seeing as he continued to retreat. “I…”

 

“Edward?” Molly came to a stop just behind him, looking for what had startled him. Her eyes landed on the painting and Ed looked at her to watch her reaction, waiting for the shock he was sure he would see. However to Ed’s shock, Molly looked at the portrait like it was perfectly normal. “Oh don’t worry dear, that’s only Phineas. He isn’t one of the nastier paintings.” she said with a smile.

“How does it do that?” Ed asked his eyes wide as looked intently at the picture, scanning for a hidden transmutation circle, or anything that could explain away what he was seeing.

“Do what dear?”

“Move! Talk! Interact!” Ed felt the urge to throw his hands up in frustration.  _ How does she not see how unnatural this is?  _ “How the hell does a painting do that?!”

Mrs. Weasley looked at him with concern, her eyes wide with confusion.”It’s only a spell Edward. Granted, an advanced one, but nothing unusual.” Ed shook his head, eyes darting between Molly and the painting.  _ Spell? What kind of explanation is that?  _ Where these people actually crazy? Had he escaped one den on lunatics only to fall into another?

“Edward, are you feeling quite alright?” she reached out to him but he jerked away putting distance between them. The buzzing he had felt in his head increased, as another presence came their direction.

“Molly? Is everything alright?” Remus appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “We heard raised voices.”

Molly was still looking at Ed, a worried expression painted across her face, the portrait,  _ Phineas,  _ however had his eyes narrowed at Ed suspiciously. Then without another word the figure walked clean out of his frame. Ed’s eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the now empty canvas.

“I.. I don’t.” Ed grit his teeth in frustration. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I-”

“Molly, Edward, is everything alright?” Remus stopped at the top step as he took in the tense air of the situation. Carefully he took a couple steps towards the two of them, his hands raised in a calming gesture. “Everything alright Edward?”

Ed didn’t know what to do. Ever since he had fallen, everything had seemed wrong in some fundamental way that made his skin crawl. But he truly had liked Molly, liked Sirius, and Remus and now everything was wrong again.  _ Magic didn’t exist,  _ It just couldn’t. Which meant they had to be crazy, because it just couldn’t be real. 

“I need to go.” Ed managed to get out as he turned to face the stairs, painfully aware that Remus blocked his only way out. And while he was sure he could take the man in a fight, hell it looked like a strong wind could take him, Ed didn’t  _ want  _ to hurt him.

“Hey,” Remus said quietly. “It’s okay. What’s going on?”

Ed straightened up, and faced him completely. “I need to leave.” He kept his voice cold, trying to sound resolute in his decision hoping he wouldn’t try and stop him.

He took a step forward and Remus didn’t move. He held his ground as Ed grew closer and closer his hand disappearing into the pocket of his worn jacket and closing around something as the distance between the two men decreased.  _ Gun? No. I would have seen the bulge. Knife then? Strong possibility, but automail has more reach and I’m quicker so It shouldn’t be a problem. _

Remus glanced over his shoulder towards Molly and Ed saw his chance. He darted to the side and bolted to the staircase. With a speed Ed would never had previously thought him capable of, Remus spun around drawing from his pockets. Ed prepared himself for the metallic flash of a knife, already shifting so his automail would cover him. But, when Remus’s hand came into view, Ed’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of one of the Death Eaters conductors, not the knife he had been expecting.

Remus opened his mouth at the same moment Ed brought his first around crashing into the man’s nose and knocking him backward. Ed felt bone crack under his fingers as pain engulfed his left hand. Molly gave a little cry of distress as Remus stumbled backwards, bringing his hands up to cover his bleeding nose. Ed bolted away from the scene, positive now that he wasn’t safe here. Ed turned sharply as he reached the bottom the stairs, heading for where he had spotted the door when Dumbledore had brought him to dinner. 

“Remus!-” Ed cut off Sirius as he barreled straight into him. Ed hit the ground hard, landing right next the Sirius. Both of them staggered to their feet, Sirius’s gaze landing on Ed’s bloody knuckles. His eyes widened and he lunged at him, Ed bolted again stumbling as his less coordinated automail caught on the hall rug.

“ _ Immobulus!”  _ Sirius yelled out from behind him. He dodged to the side as he felt a bolt of energy shoot towards him. He saw it impact the door in front of him with an flash of blue. His hand was outreached, stretching for the door as Sirius hurled more energy his direction. “ _ Colloptus _ !” Ed felt the energy coming, but Sirius’s aim was off and it passed him by, slamming into the door again. His hand closed around the handle and he jerked back to pull the door open, but to his horror met only resistance. Ed spun around frantically, in his mad dash to the door he had cornered himself. Sirius wasn’t going to give him a chance to fight back, pausing well outside of Ed’s normal attack range. Ed slammed his hands together and reached for the wall not quite making it before scores of ropes wrapped around his middle pinning his arms uselessly at his sides and defusing the transmutation energy harmlessly.

“Remus! Are you alright?” Sirius looked down at Ed coldly as he waited for a reply, gone was all the warmth from earlier.

“Yes, yes we’re both fine!” The response came moments later. Sirius seemed to relax a bit with the knowledge that his friend was alright, but he made no move to free Ed.

Sirius stalked over to him, and shoved his conductor in his back pocket. Reaching down he grabbed Ed by the ropes that bound him and pulled him upright. Ed had to stagger to catch himself as he was tied up in a way that didn’t allow his legs to move fully. Sirius dragged him back toward his room by his flesh arm seemingly uncaring of the difficulties Ed was having.

“Careful Sirius, you’ll hurt him.” Remus’s voice floated down the stairs. He stood dabbing lightly at the blood on his face, though the damage wasn’t nearly as much as Ed thought he had caused.

“You good?” Sirius called up to his friend.

“Fine. fine.” Remus waved off the concern. “Only broke my nose. Hurt, but it’s not the first time it’s happened.

Ed’s face tightened in confusion, that’s what he thought he had done. but he could plainly see the man’s nose was still intact, why say otherwise? Sirius nodded, and continued to drag Ed away, and when the reached the room where he had slept, he adjusted the ropes securing Ed to the chair Dumbledore had vacated earlier that morning, and with one last cold look Sirius locked him inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a longer chapter this week, I hope everything stays cohesive. Thank you to all of you who have reviewed, you make my day.


	5. And it Went Downhill From There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed escape attempt number three and , the order gossips about the new kid.

Sirius paced back and forth across the room running his hands through his loose hair as the three sat waiting for the rest of the order members. He didn’t understand it at all, the boy had been cleared by Dumbledore hadn’t he? He found himself glancing back over at Remus as he stalked the distance of the room. Logically he knew his friend was fine, it had only been a broken bone and Molly had fixed him up nicely. But, for a moment when he had heard Remus cry out, and saw the blood staining Ed’s glove, he had feared the worst.

The fireplace flames sparked green and Arthur stepped out into the room and went immediately to his wife’s side to insure she was alright. He was quickly followed by Shacklebolt, Jones, Podmore, and Vance who nodded in Sirius’s direction briefly before taking her seat.

“Where is the boy now?” Kingsley’s low baritone voice drawing everyone's attention.

“Tied up in the bedroom down the hall. I locked and warded it to keep him in.” Kingsley seemed satisfied with his answer, claiming one of the rooms elaborate armchairs.

Green light bathed the room again as Doge, and Dedalus Diggle entered followed by his cousin Tonks moments later. She came and stood next to him, her hair was short and silver grey today reflecting the tense mood of the room.

A loud knock echoed through the house and Molly excused herself to answer. She returned shortly accompanied by the last two members of their party. Dumbledore strode forwards with the same air of power he always had despite the vaguely troubled look on his face. Moody thumping along a few steps behind, his magical eye spinning wildly around the room scanning its occupants before fixing in position towards the room Edward was being held in.

“Now then,” Dumbledore settled himself in the set closest to the fire. “Tell us all what happened.”

Molly detached Arthur's grip on her hand and turned to face Dumbledore. “We were eating dinner, and  I decided to take him on a tour of the house. Everything seemed fine, but when we were heading back down the stairs, he just sort of, lost it?” Molly’s voice lifting at the end conveying how confused Edwards actions made her.

“Do you know why?”

“It was a painting, Phineas's painting.” Dumbledore motioned for her to go on. “He just kept asking how it was possible, like he had never seen a wizarding picture before. I tried to explain to him that it was only a spell, but he just kept saying he had to leave. You told us to keep him here for the time being, and we tried to stop him-”

“I take it that’s how Lupin’s nose got broken?” Moody’s gruff voice interrupted from the corner, Molly nodded.

“Is it..” Emmeline Vance spoke up from her position along the far wall. “Is it possible that the boy might be, well, a Muggle?” a couple order members muttered sentiments of agreement.

“No.” Sirius and Albus replied simultaneously. The members glanced between them with interest

“Kid pulled off some serious magic when were breaking back out of the manor, no wand, or command. All he had to do was touch the ground and he could control it.” Sirius remembered his shock when the wall had appeared covering their retreat, and he knew that without it, it was unlikely the three of them would have escaped.

“I witnessed the same thing when I confronted young Edward earlier. When he felt threatened, he used this ability to arm himself.” added Dumbledore. Sirius saw people's faces contort with outrage at the thought of the boy trying to attack Dumbledore, Sirius could hear words like ‘dangerous’ and ‘death eater’ being thrown around. Things weren't looking great in terms of support for Edward, even as Dumbledore moved to calm the order members.

\---

Ed’s head was killing him, the number of independent energy sources had increased dramatically in the last hour.  _ Looks like more people  _ he thought to himself, though he wasn’t sure what that meant in regards to him.  _ What was that saying granny was so fond of? Out of the frying pan and into the fire?  _ Ed sighed,  _ Sure sums up my situation. _

He had underestimated them, that much was clear. But now Ed appreciated the time alone. It had gave him his first chance to really slow down and think through his situation.  _ I feel it’s safe to assume conductors and command words is how Alchemy is performed wherever I am. But it still does nothing to explain away that picture... _ Ed’s head hurt just thinking about it. It wasn’t so much an issue of equivalent exchange, they weren't making something with an unequal balance of ingredients, It was more like they were creating a soul from nothing. Not even that really it was like giving something sentience!

It couldn’t be soul bonding, at least he didn’t think it could be. All the experiences he had with that had involved the soul being unable to move outside of what the soul was directly connected too. detach Al’s legs from the chest piece where the seal was, and he wouldn’t be able to control them. The same had applied to Barry and the Slicer Brothers. Hell, that had been part of what had made the Brothers so hard to beat, he hadn’t been expecting them to be able to move independently. Al was only able to move as much as he could because his suit of armor was meant to move, dried paint was not. 

Could Phineas be some strange form of homunculus? A philosopher's stone could exist in many forms, could the paint somehow be mixed with a liquid form? It didn’t seem likely, the amount of death required, especially with how Molly treated it as a common sight, would be astronomically high. Ed let out a growl of frustration desperate to reference his notes, and test out a couple theory’s. But first things first, he needed out of this room, and out of this house. Ed felt around for anything he could use to carve, he might need both hands to transmute without an array, but he could still go one handed in a pinch if he had something to make a circle with.

No dice. The chair was free of anything that could prove useful. With a sigh Ed cursed the dullness of his automail fingers, the best they could do would be to dent the chair. He thought wistfully of the claws Buccaneer’s arm had sported,  _ I could sure as hell use some diamond tips claws now…  _ Normal hand it was then. Ed rubbed his wrist against the edge of the seat to pull his glove down and wiggled his fingers to get it all the way off his hand. Angling his hand so his fingernails dug into the chair leg Ed began to painstakingly carve a transmutation circle. _ Two circles, two squares. Easy. I could do this in my sleep. _

\---

“Dumbledore, you said you saw nothing to suggest involvement with the Death Eaters when you looked into his mind, So what would you have us do with him? He’s proven to be both powerful and aggressive and, we still have no real idea who he is.”

“He’s scared Dedalus, we don’t punish people for fear. Besides,” Dumbledore paused. “I feel there might be more at work than we know.”

“What do you mean professor?”

“When I introduced myself to the boy, he had no idea who I was. Something that is quite the impressive feat with how often the ministry has me on the front cover of the papers since the Triwizard tournament concluded.”

“I might have something to add to that.” Sirius straightened up as the order members turned to look at him. “He told us, Remus, Molly, and myself that is, that he hadn’t been to school since he was nine.” He paused as some the members brows knit with confusion. “And I know that magical homeschooling is common enough of a practice in parts of the world, but magic doesn’t usually present itself with any force till eleven, it’s just, nine is such a weird age.”

“You think he was locked away when he started showing signs?” Emmeline asked. “I suppose we don’t think about it here with the systems we have in place to prevent abuse of that sort. But I guess If he grew up outside of Magical Britain, it’s possible he could have slipped through the cracks?”

“On one hand, seclusion from magic could explain his lack of understanding and his fear when faced with something he couldn’t logically understand. But on the other, If he wasn’t allowed to practice magic, how has he become so strong?” Jones added.

“I think we should also ask, what it is He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named wants with him?” Doge’s words silenced the order. Sirius watched as Moody and Dumbledore exchanged a significant look. Words seemed to pass silently between the two men, and Sirius knew that there was something they weren't telling them. Some theory that they both shared.

“For now I think, the safest place to keep the boy is here.” Dumbledore placed his hand up in a silencing gesture as member began to voice their disapproval. “I will assign a guard to watch him at all times, at least until we know beyond a shadow of a doubt he means us no harm, and if it comes to it, I will deal with the boy accordingly.”

The finality of Dumbledore’s tone left the room silent, even if Sirius could practically feel some of the members itching to argue their opinion. Slowly they left in groups of two’s and three’s until Sirius, and Remus were the only one’s left standing with Moody and Albus. Molly having gone home at the insistence of her husband.

“Now then,” Moody’s voice cut through the silence left by the departures of the other order members  his eye still fixed on Edward’s room. “Kid’s made good progress, he’s almost escaped.” Sirius’s eyes widened as he looked towards where he had locked the boy up. Moody grinned. “Now, I think it’s time we had a word with the boy.”

\---

Ed grinned as he shook out his stiff shoulders, his rope bonds falling to his feet, and his left index finger bleed sluggishly from the force it had taken to carve into the wood with his finger nail. He was lucky the wood had been relatively soft or his plan would have failed completely.

He walked towards the door, feeling the energy that surrounded the room. It was thinner than the barrier the Death Eaters had put up and had a simpler structure. Where with the earlier wall he had been required to route the energy back through himself to make any headway, he was fairly certain that with this one he could pull the energy  _ into  _ him and then channel it back out in the form of a transmutation.

Placing one hand on the wall he pulled back on the power under his fingertips drawing it into his body. Where earlier he had been part of the wall, now he was controlling it. His skin buzzed with the energy, and he felt as though his system had been flooded with adrenaline. Placing his other hand on the ground he was nearly thrown through the air as the energy rushed forward as it was directed, ripping up floor boards as the energy continued its destructive path. ... _ Huh...probably should have tested that out first.  _ Ed winced as the destruction came to a stop, there was no way they others in the house hadn’t heard that. Throwing open the door he prepared to bolt for the second time that day.  _ Screw doors! I’ll just blast a hole through the wall!  _

Ed chose to blame it on the still lingering fire under his skin, as for why in that moment he didn’t notice the feeling of four figures located just outside his door. Or that one of them was a presence he would have never thought it possible for him to overlook after that afternoon. Remus looked surprised, but had nothing on Sirius who Ed heard mutter something under his breath quietly along the lines of   
_  
‘and I thought I hated this house’.   
_  
Dumbledore’s face was blank and unreadable, almost expectantly. And to his left the man with a face resembling Dr. Marcoh post Scar, with the strange electronic looking eye merely raised an eyebrow at him. Almost as if to say   
_  
‘you think that's impressive?’  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone who reads this, your kudos and and comments keep me motivated to write!  
> sorry if the pacing was weird in this chapter. I came down with the kind of cold that makes it hard to arrange words into any sort of meaningful sentences.


	6. The Other Side of the gate

Ed rocked onto the balls of his feet and brought his arms up defensively. He narrowed his eyes fixing them each with a glare of determination as the deformed man reached to pull his conductor out. Dumbledore caught his wrist stopping him, before he fixed his too calm smile on Ed. “There’s no need for that Edward.”

“You’ll have to forgive me for thinking otherwise.” he shot back.

“And you’ll have to forgive me Edward, I should have taken time to explain everything to you this morning. I figured I should wait after what happened, and hoped that after some food and a good night’s sleep you would be more more comfortable and ready to talk. It’s my fault for not foreseeing what could have happened, and for that I’m sorry. But now we  _ need _ to talk, and I think it would be better if we all took a step back and moved somewhere a little more relaxed.”

Ed shook his head. “Nah, I think I’m good here.”

“Alright then,” Remus said. “we can talk here.” Ed really didn’t want to, he wanted to leave. But he knew he needed information,  he needed to know what was going on, so he nodded in agreement.

“Can you tell us how you ended up captured by the Death Eaters?” Dumbledore asked, taking the lead again.

Ed hesitated for a moment before answering, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” The man Ed hadn’t met before asked in clear disbelief.

“I don’t know.” Ed insisted. “There was a lot of white, and then I was there.”

“Okay.” Dumbledore said, shooting a quick look at the man. “That’s fine.”

“My turn.” Ed said cutting him off before he could ask anything else. “Where am I? As specifically as possible.”

The man shot him a suspicious look and opened his mouth like he was going to object to the question before Dumbledore answered seemingly uncaring of the man's hesitations. “Currently you are at Grimmauld place in the Borough of Islington, London , England. Is that answer satisfactory?” 

Ed nodded trying to remember if he had ever heard of a London, England. It seemed to him he should have heard of it if not traveled there, if the country boasted as impressive of Alchemy as he had seen, but he was drawing a blank.

“And you Mr. Elric? Where are you from?”

Again Ed was faced his answer with hesitation. Amestris wasn’t a well liked country, and he worried that if he gave them the country they would connect it to his name and realize that they held a very powerful political hostage. Well… he use to be. Now, he wouldn’t put it past the Fuhrer to leave him to rot until they need him as a sacrifice. But there was feeling in his gut telling him he could tell the truth, the feeling that had been bugging him since he got here, telling him something was wrong. So Ed answered. 

“Resembool, Amestris.”

He waited for something, some sort of reaction. Anger, hate, excitement, just something. Instead all he saw was confusion.

“Amestris?” Remus asked. “Where’s that? I’ve never heard of it.” and Ed felt his stomach drop.  _ Never heard of it? Amestris might not be large, But we certainly don’t fly under the radar. We’ve been practically at war nonstop since we were formed. _

“Uh, it’s south of Drachma and west of Creta? The last country before the desert?” Ed tried as his mind began to make connections he didn’t want to. As Lupin shook his head Ed felt his heart in his throat, everything starting to make sense. Ed mentally took inventory of himself, hysterically wondering if somehow in the excitement and pain of the last few weeks he had somehow failed to notice a missing body part. It was the gate. He had gone through the fucking gate.  _ But How? I didn’t open it. Greed can’t do Alchemy, and the same goes for Heinkel and Darius.  _

And for a second he let himself hope that he was wrong, that it was just some other giant white portal that had it out for him. The eye of truth hadn’t shown up, and neither had those black hands that grabbed hold and pulled until they ripped you apart and deconstructed you, only to do it again before you could leave. But he can feel it in his gut, that he’s right about it. It’s like he fell through the portal without stopping at the gate. Like he just kept falling, and falling, until he came out the other side.

Ed slumped backward against the wall not able to help himself. “God dammit.”

“Edward?” Remus was looking at him with concern and he felt the wind go out of him, because what the hell was he supposed to do now.

“You’ve really never hear of Amestris have you?” Ed nodded at their blank expressions and closed his eyes for a second. “Yeah… Well I’ve never heard of England.”

\---

“Different worlds? Is that even possible?” The five of them sat seated back around the table Ed had eaten at earlier. He felt exhausted, they had spent the past hour giving him a run down on this version of earth. Ed had concluded that on the surface the two worlds had very little different with them, but once you looked deeper, particularly between their two countries, almost every level of their culture had something different about it. 

Democracy vs Military State, Fuhrer vs Prime Minister, better international relations, and perhaps most importantly Alchemy was a secret. Well, not Alchemy “ _ Magic”. _ Just thinking the word left a bitter taste in his mouth. He supposed it made sense in a way, not  _ Magic,  _ but Alchemy developed differently in different places. Amestris had it’s Alchemy, and Xing had it’s Alkahestry, both of which had originated from the same form of archaic Alchemy used in Xerxes. Alchemy, that had greatly resembled earlier attempts at sorcery.  _ Hell, there’s plenty of places that still consider Alchemy little better than witchcraft. That’s part of the reason why there was so much conflict with the Ishvalans.  _

“Of course it’s possible Mr. Black, it’s always been quite likely in fact.”

Moody scoffed. “What Albus is leaving out, is the fact that it’s always been likely “ _ In Theory”. _ No one's been able to prove their existence, or, for that matter disprove them. Parallel Worlds, and Alternate Earths have always been the domain of The Unspeakables.”

Ed was only half paying attention to the conversation around him his head swimming with theories, his hands itching for a pen to scribble down notes with.  _ The line between Medical Alchemy and Human Transmutation has always been a thin one. It’s unpredictable, and rebounds occur more often than not if not performed by a master. That’s way we don’t deal with it much in Amestris, it’s just not worth the risks. But, Xing does… Their Alchemy is fundamentally different than ours, it works with the body rather than acting on it, so they get better results. The way Alchemy “ _ **_Magic_ ** _ ” is done here, I wonder… _

“When you.. _ cast a spell,”  _ Ed grit out. “How does it work? Where do you draw power from?” His question was met with silence. Glancing around Ed realized he might not have been paying as much attention as he thought he was. Then men were all looking at him with, and Sirius closed his mouth clearly having been in the middle of saying something.

“Uh, not quite sure what you mean there Eddie-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“-We don’t really take power from anything, we just kinda, do things?”

“And now I know you were definitely cheating off me in Magical theory” he heard Remus mutter under his breath. “Ignore him, we all do.” Remus faced Ed and pulled out his conduct- _ Wand,  _ and set it on the table in front of them. “What I think Sirius was trying to say was, magic is in our blood. It’s completely instinctual as children, but it’s only after we’ve studied and learned to control it, that we can  _ choose  _ to do it.”

_ So I was right then!  _ “It’s internal, then you draw power from yourselves, and use it to act on the outside world. Right?”

“Correct.” Dumbledore answered before Remus got a chance too. “However, I think we should save the discussion of the mechanics of magic for another time. For now I feel we should focus instead on what you plan to do now that you’re here.”

The mood that had begun to lift in the kitchen sobered, as everyone’s eyes fixed on Ed. A weird feeling of Deja Vu fell over Ed as he found himself in a conversation not unlike the ones he’d had with Darius and Heinkel after the Mine Incident, and then a few weeks later with Greed.  _ The universe really loves giving me giant important crossroads to make decisions lately…  _ “I wasn’t exaggerating earlier, I really need to leave. But now that I see that getting home isn’t just a matter of hopping on a train and taking it to East City, and that it’s going to take a lot more then some money to get home, I think for me the best course at the moment, is learn as much as I can about how I got here.”

“And what do you intend to do about Lord Voldemort’s men? They’ll be looking for you.” 

“I’m good and staying off the radar if need be, I’d been doing it for nearly three months now before I ended up here.” That earned him another suspicious look from man he had been introduced to as Alastor Moody. He was starting to think that his emotions ranged from Unimpressed, to Suspicious, to Paranoid-to-the-point-of-murder. 

Moody open his mouth to say something when a flash of silver filled the room. Ed blinked away the spots that filled his vision to find the figure of a Lynx prowling up and down the length of the table. It’s body was silvery and not quite solid and the way it moved without sound was unsettling and ghost like. Then it spoke.

“ _ Return to Hogwarts, you are needed.... Return to Hogwarts, you are needed…”  _ He glanced between the adults at the table trying to gauge their reactions as the Lynx dissolved back into mist. Dumbledore stood, his face serious.

“You two with me.” Moody stood and followed him out in a hurry, while Remus stopped for a moment to throw a regretful look over his shoulder at Sirius. “And Edward!” Dumbledore called out from the other room. “For now stay here, Grimmauld Place is the safest place in London for you. We’ll talk about other accommodations when I can return.” The hallway was bathed in green light and Ed felt a surge of energy in his gut, and to his shock one by one he felt all three of the men disappear.

The kitchen felt much colder with just Sirus and him, the black haired man’s shoulders were slouched in defeat. Sirius sighed and gave Ed a half hearted grin as he stood.

“Come on then, you can show me that trick of yours and fix those floor boards you tore up. Molly’ll kill us both if she finds the room like that next time she’s here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you who reviewed this past week it makes me very happy. Had a little less time then usual to work on this chapter because I had family in town this week for the fourth, so I apologize if I've missed anything editing.  
> Till next week.


	7. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quills are a cruel and unusual punishment

Sirius whistled appreciatively as Ed lifted his hands from the floor, blue lightning weaving the floor back together again. He leaned down to inspect it, and found no evidence of their earlier destroyed state. Even though he was smiling the boy looked exhausted, running on nothing but adrenaline does that to a person he supposed. 

“There’s a shower in the bathroom down the hall, if you want to clean up and call it a night?” Sirius offered and the boy nodded appreciatively and headed in the direction he had pointed. He frowned as he watch Ed walk away with a slight stutter in his step, and he tried to remember if something had happened during the days events that would give him a fresh limp. 

Sirius wandered down toward the linen closet to grab some new sheets for Ed, seeing as the ones he had slept on last night were spotted with blood in places and coated with the fine layer of dust that rained constantly from the ceiling. As he dug through the bedding, he couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face when his eyes fell on the bundle of red shoved in the corner. Shooing away the spiders that had taken up residence in the dark regions of the closet, he drew out his old Gryffindor colored bed set. Sirius wondered idly why his mother hadn’t burned them when he left, or rather ordered them to be be burned. He figured it was probably for the same reason they hadn’t touched his room, It was easier to pretend you never had a son if you don't have to dirty your hands dealing with their things.  _ Regardless, it’s good for me- or rather good for Ed, he seems like a red and gold type of kid. _

After a quick go over with his wand to clear the mold and water stains that dotted the sheets after years in the back of the closet, he tossed them down and with a quick spell made the bed. Sirius was just finishing up giving the room a quick once over to insure something nasty hadn’t moved in while they had been in the kitchen, when Ed walked in. 

The kid looked dead on his feet, his long blonde hair hanging limply out of it’s ponytail and his strange limp even more pronounced now than it was earlier. With a frown he noticed that Ed was still wearing the same clothes he had arrived in. Even with the quick once over Molly had given them getting the surface grime and blood out of them, Sirius couldn’t imagine wearing the same clothes for as long as Ed likely had, felt good.

“I’ll have to get Molly or Tonks to take you shopping later, but for now I’ll go look and see if I have anything laying around from when I was your age that might fit you.” Ed thanked him and began to empty the contents of his pockets on the nightstand. A handful of foreign coins, a leather bound notebook, and a silver pocket watch that looked like it had seen better days. “Be back in a moment!” he called over his shoulder as he left the room and he hurried off toward his bedroom on the top floor.

\---

Ed collapsed on the mattress savoring the feeling of an actual bed beneath him. He was more than use to roughing it and sleeping in uncomfortable places, It was simply a part of his life. Al didn’t need anywhere to sleep and they attracted enough attention as it was, so sometimes sleeping outdoors was just the better option. But after spending however long it was sleeping upright in chains, the bed felt like heaven.

Ed felt his stomach drop at the thought of his little brother. He had been trying not to think about it, the implications of being to two  _ completely different worlds  _ from each other, but now alone and relatively safe for the first time since he had fallen through the portal, he couldn’t escape it. 

He hadn’t seen Al in just over three months now, and he was further away than ever. He’d been out of it for a while in the beginning,  _ getting impaled through the gut with a metal beam tends to do that to a person _ , so Al had been gone for a little over two weeks before Ed realized it was the longest they had ever been apart. Resembool had been a small town, and Ed hadn’t liked school much, the kids were too noisy and the teachers were stupid, so Winry and Al had been the extent of his playmates. When his mother died, the two of them and Granny had become his whole world. 

From then on Ed grew up fast, Al was quiet and cared too much about what people said about them, the adults that called them wild and the kids that named them bastards. Ed had tightened his jaw, held his head high, and threatened to knock out the teeth of anyone who made his brother or Winry cry. They didn’t have much, but they still had their pride. Ed wasn’t about to let anyone try and take that from them. Of course then he tried to bring back their mother, and he had the gall to drag Al down with him. And suddenly he let down, the one person he had promised to protect above all else. From then on he swore to himself he would never let anything happen to Al again. 

Mustang had drummed into his head early on the risks of bringing Al with him, what the military would do to him, to Al, if they got caught them. But the fear that if he left Al behind something would happen to the seal kept them together. Mustang let them stay together, pulled some strings so that Al was allowed to stay in the dorms with him when they were in town, and made sure people didn’t look to closely at them. Of course Military work didn’t always allow for them to stay together. They’re had been plenty of times over the years that he had been forced to leave Al behind when someone that outranked Mustang called for a State Alchemist. But until Gluttony, Ed had never been more than a train ride away from his brother. 

Gluttony had felt strange too now that he thought about it. It was different than here though, when they had been swallowed, there had been this feeling of _ disconnect  _ almost. Here, it was harder to put the change into words, but it was closer to...the difference breathing the air in the north vs the south. You can’t quite put your finger on the difference, you just know there is something. Some sweetness one posses that the other can’t quite match.

Ed jerked upright, his eyes widening and he scrambled for his note book. Throwing open the drawer of the end table he riffled through it looking for a pen.  _ You have got to be kidding me _ Ed thought as the nearest he could find was a sharpened quill made from a long black feather. With a sigh he scrambled through the drawer and drew out a sealed inkwell. Opening the book to the next empty page he jammed the quill into the inkwell staining his gloves with black ink. He hissed as he pressed to hard on the page and the ink began to soak through the pages. Ed cursed as he ripped them out in order to save the rest of the notebook.  _ So they can levitate and heal wounds with a flick of the wrist, but they couldn’t figure out how to make a goddamn pen.  _

After a couple test scratches he started to get a hang of the pressure required. His left hand shook as he began to copy down his thoughts. He hadn’t ever been able to replicate the fine motor skills that his right had once possessed in his left, and writing with automail was a nightmare. The first fight Mustang and him ever got into actually happened after Mustang had been complaining about Ed not even trying to make his reports legible. It had also been one of the few fights Mustang had ever apologized for too.

_ Okay, let’s look at what we know.  _ 1) Gluttony’s stomach was a failed portal.  _ I got out of there by using Envy’s stone, but that’s not an option this time. Theoretically I could use myself like I did in the mines, but I think it’s more likely I would burn myself out. There isn’t enough of me to make the journey.  _ 2) I don’t feel the same disconnect in this magic world then I did in the stomach- Does that mean I’m still connected to the portal like I would be at home?  _ When I carried us from Gluttony’s gate to Truth it was like we came through a side door… If I fell right through It would still be the same gate, just the other side.  _ Ed felt his excitement bubble up and he couldn’t help the grin painted across his face.  _ Good thing I know how to get to the Gate… now I just need to figure out what I’m going to use for payment.  _ He began jotting down the outlines of transmutation circles.

Ed nearly jumped out of his skin as the door swung open behind him, the handle striking the wall. Sirius's eyes widened as he took in the mess Ed had made as he dumped an armful of clothes that he had found that he thought might fit him. Edward’s face was smudged with ink, and the cuffs of his shirt and gloves were covered with black patches.

With a sigh Sirius stuck out his hand. “Here, give me the dirty stuff and I’ll clean it up. Molly taught me a good spell for ink removal,  _ because god knows you can’t trust Kreacher to not set your clothes on fire _ , and you can change into some of that stuff. There’s bound to be something you can sleep in.”

Ed froze. His Automail was his last advantage. So far magic hadn’t seemed to have any effect on it, and if things went south he needed to have something he could use in his defense.

“Leave them here, I’ll finish up what I’m doing and bring them out to you.” Ed said doing his best to keep the tension out of his voice.

“Sure.” Sirius shrugged. “I’ll be in the living room.”

Ed sighed in relief as Sirius left the room. He wanted to trust these people, but he couldn’t help but be suspicious of their motives.  _ You’ve been spending too much time with Mustang  _ he thought to himself as he pulled off his gloves and set them on the bed. Even if he didn’t want to stop for the night, he knew drawing transmutation circles while half asleep was asking for trouble. 

Flexing his metal fingers Ed took note of the state of his wrist. A couple plates were bent and dented inward from the chains, something Ed would have to take care of if he didn’t want to risk damaging the internal wiring. Moving his finger down the front of his shirt he unbuttoned the dress shirt Greed had made him buy, because  _ “No self respecting minion of mine can have a sense of style as bad as yours.”  _ He rotated his arm back to inspect a dull clicked he had heard from the joint while he was in the the shower. As he craned his neck he could just barely make out a large dent in the joint that his arm rotated in. It wasn’t going to be an easy one two fix, as the dent was in the metal bolted into his body and not part of the removable arm.  _ I must have messed up when I went flying into that wall...I wonder if I might be able to- _

“Hey Ed I grab-” Ed whirled around to face Sirius. He stood frozen in the doorway face blank as he took in the sight before him. “ _ Holy shit. _ ” He murmured as he took a hesitant step forward. Ed took a matching step back and Sirius froze. “ _ What the hell happened to you?”  _ Ed wasn’t sure Sirius realized he had spoken aloud judging from the way the man was still staring uncomprehendingly at Ed’s Automail.

“It’s nothing.” Ed said shortly as he grabbed the nearest long sleeve shirt of the bed and tossed it over his head.  _ So much for keeping that a secret.  _ Ed’s words seemed to have shook Sirius out of his stupor and my the time the shirt was all the way over his head, Sirius was right in front of him. Ed startled, but noticed that Sirius wasn’t holding his wand and allowed himself to relax slightly.

“I don’t know what constitutes as nothing where your from, but here, missing your whole arm constitutes as a big thing!” the man yelled looking as if he wanted to reach out and shake some sense into him.

Ed went to step around the man only to stumble hard as his left knee locked up. Sirius caught him by his shoulders and set him back against the bed and fixed him with a concerned and slightly panicked look. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” He muttered as he knocked the side of his fist against the joint to try and dislodge it. The thing had been acting up ever since he fell down that mine shaft. Ed silently cursed Kimblee when on the fifth hit the joint finally unlocked and Ed could use his leg again. Grumbling to himself he rolled up his pant leg to check and see if the issue had become more evident than it had been earlier, ignoring the noise Sirius made when he saw the second metal limb. No luck.

“Ed, what happened to you?” he looked up and met Sirius’s eyes at the man's murmured question.

Ed hesitated for a second before responding. “Civil war.” he said giving his official cover story. “It happened along time ago, it’s nothing to worry about.”

Sirius didn’t look convinced as he took in the sight of the intricate prosthetic that took the place of Ed’s left leg. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

Ed allowed himself a smile as he pictured Winry wielding her wrench over his head.  _ If she saw the state of her precious Automail right now, I’d be lucky to leave with the limbs I have left.  _ “A friend of mine made them for me. Her and her grandmother run an Automail shop back home.”

“Automail? Is that what it’s called?”

Yeah, and it’s ten times better than any other sort of prosthetic you can get out there. Totally worth the pain to install it.” Ed said with pride

“Pain?”

“Well, yeah… It’s directly linked into my nerves, so I can use them like normal limbs, but you have to be awake for the surgery or they won’t know if everything connected right.” Ed took Sirius horrified look in stride, he had seen in it on the faces of plenty of adults over the years. “Really though, it’s fine. My life is better for them.” Ed said cutting Sirius of before he had a chance to speak.

The man swallowed, still looking pained. “I’m sorry, I should have knocked. Clearly this isn’t something you like showing.”

Ed gave a little laugh, while internally he was celebrating the perfect out he had been given. “It’s okay. It’s just not a story I like to tell. So if you could?”

“Don’t worry about it, I won’t tell.” Sirius said, and Ed could tell he meant it. He hadn’t lied, not really. He didn’t want to invite questions, and while Mustang had drilled his cover story endlessly so Ed could lie convincingly under stress if it came to it, he didn’t trust the Wizards not to just break into his head and look for themselves. And, if that happened, probably the least harmful information they would find was that he was lying about his limbs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhhh! 100 kudos! Thank you so much to all of you reading this story, and thank you for all the Kudos, Reviews, Subscriptions, Bookmarks, and just coming back every week. Love you all.  
> \- Pree


	8. peaking through

Ed was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. Sirius had excused himself saying ‘it looked like Ed was seconds away from passing out, and if he wanted to talk more they could do it in the morning.’ He hadn’t been wrong, the adrenaline dump he had received upon the realization that he was still connected to the gate had worn off about the time his leg locked up, leaving him fighting off sleep. He had hoped that with as tired as he was he could make it through the night without any dreams, but it wasn’t to be.

He found himself standing in the house Greed and the gang had taken over, where he had fallen through the portal. It was evening outside, and Hankel and Darrius sat on the edges of the room avoiding Greed as he paced violently from one end of the main room to the other. 

“ **_Stupid Fucking kid, I ought to ring his neck for pulling something like th_ ** _ at move probably saved our life Greed! We wouldn’t have been able to hold on for much longer. W _ **_e could have done something though! He was our responsibility!”_ ** Greed and Ling shifted control of their body seamlessly as they walked without so much as a missed step, their voices flowing into each other without pause. Ed eye’s widened after a moment as he realized that it was him they were arguing about. He took a step forward towards his friends, all three off them tensed up suddenly. 

“ _ Can you feel that too?”  _ Ling asked, drawing the sword Ed had transmuted for him. Heinkel and Darius nodded climbing to their feet, standing in the way Ed recognized as them getting ready to transform.

Ed hurried to the front window, searching for what was coming, despite logically knowing that what he was seeing was only a creation of his mind.  **_“What? What is it?”_ ** Greed shoved his way out, narrowing his eyes as he took in how Heinkel and Darius stood.

_ “I’m not sure… But stay down right now, I’m the one that can feel it.”  _ Greed didn’t speak up again, meaning he had listened to Ling’s request for control. Ling advanced towards the door his eyes narrowed just past Ed. But as Ed watched and Ling grew closer the floor split open and he felt himself get sucked down back through the portal.

Ed jerk upright gasping, still feeling the phantom pressure of the portal wrapped around him suffocatingly tight. It took him a second to get his bearings in the unfamiliar room, the bright crimson of the sheets a stark contrast to the blackness of the cells.

“EDWARD! BREAKFAST!” came Sirius’s hollar from the kitchen, far louder then his voice had any right to be this early in the morning. Ed stumbled out of bed, his foot catching on the covers sending him careening to the ground. Grumbling, he righted himself and snagged a black long-sleeve shirt off the pile Sirius had left him. Taking a second to shove his watch in the pocket of the jeans he was borrowing he set out to meet Sirius in the kitchen.

The smell of smoke met Ed’s noise as he entered the room, and Sirius shoot him an apologetic look as he slid two pieces of scorched toast on his plate. The eggs had fared only slightly better, but after eating the food the Death Eaters had provided, Ed wasn’t really in a position to complain.

“Got any plans for the day?” Sirius ask in between bites of food.

“Library.” Ed said finishing up the last of what was on his plate. “I've been dying to get in there ever since Molly showed it to me.”

Sirius hummed to himself as he reached to dish himself seconds. “Be careful what you touch up there, my family wasn’t exactly… into the nicest stuff.”

“Your family?”

He grinned and lifted his glass of water into the air like a toast. “Welcome Edward Elric, to the ancestral home of the Most Noble House of Black!” Sirius said with a theatrical bow.

Ed snorted a little into his food. “I take it, they aren't your favorite people then?”

Sirius snorted, “You would know, you were a guest in one of the family’s other houses before Remus and I busted you out.”

“The bigass manor I was chained up in?” Ed said incredulously.

“That’a be the one.” Sirius’s face fell a bit, before splitting into a wide grin and Ed knew he was going to hate the next thing out of his mouth. “I guess you could say I’m the  _ black  _ sheep of the family.”

Ed chucked his toast at Sirius’s face.

\---

The two of them settled into a sorta routine after that, breakfast, library, fifteen minutes for Sirius to drag Ed out of the library, lunch, wizarding chess/grilling Sirius about magic, dinner, library, Sirius dragging Ed and off to bed. Dumbledore had yet to return to talk to Ed about protection outside of Grimmauld Place, and Remus or Moody popped in at random to insure both of them were still in the house, so unable to leave, there hadn’t been much else for Ed to do.

He was sitting up in the library when the screaming began. Ed sighed to himself slipping a bookmark between the pages of the dusty old tome he had been reading and got to his feet, peaking out of the doorway to see who it was that had woken Mrs. Black’s painting. Ed saw Molly standing at the base of the stairs scolding a set of gangly looking redheads who could only be her kids.

“We're really sorry-”

“-Mom, we didn’t mean-”

-it we swear.” The boy’s said, finishing for each other, reminding Ed a bit of Greed and Ling, minus the whole sharing a body thing.

“Sure you didn’t” she said delivering a light smack to the back of each of their heads. “Just like you didn’t mean it the last twenty times!” The boy’s shot her identical grins and hurried off in the direction of the kitchen. “Oh! Ron dear, would you mind helping your father with the bags? And Ginny, just drop your luggage on the sofa for now, go ahead and grab yourself some food.” She called to someone behind her.

Ed watched the sea of controlled chaos below him as various redheads passed back and forth, remembering vaguely the Sirius had mentioned that the Weasleys would be moving in soon, in preparation for the school year. A tall balding man in a patched coat staggered past the stairs his arms laden with bags of all shapes and sizes. Ed hustled down the stairs catching one of the bags as it tumbled from the man’s arms. “Here,” Ed said as he took a second bag off the man's stack. “Let me help you with that.”

The man gave an exhausted thanks and Ed moved after him and dumped them in the master bedroom a few doors down from his room. “Arthur Weasley.” said the man catching his breath. “I don’t think we’ve ever met before. Do you go to school with my children?”

“Oh, no, I’m home-schooled actually.” he said, using the cover story Moody had given him. “I’m Edward by the way.”

Arthur froze, “Oh. You’re him then.”

“Uh, yes?” Ed replied unsure of why the man had reacted as such to his name.

“Now see here-”

“Arthur dear, are you in here?” Molly said as she entered the room, interrupting whatever it was Arthur was trying to say to him. “Oh hello Edward, what are you doing in here?”’

Ed pointed back over his shoulder at the mound of luggage. “Just helping out with the bags.”

“Oh well, you best hurry along or there won’t be any food left.” Ed nodded, he knew a dismissal when he heard one.

“Arthur, it’s not like he attacked me or anything…” he heard as he moved away from the door.  _ So that’s why he doesn’t like me. I’ll have to apologize to Molly later.  _ He thought as he remembered his mad dash to the door.

The kitchen was a madhouse when he arrived, the teenagers yelling at each other as the twins danced around them setting off what looked like mini firecrackers. Sirius moved around sliding slightly singed grilled cheese sandwiches onto plates with a wide grin on his face. The man was happiest he had ever seen him, and Ed again wondered how long it had been since he had been allowed normal interactions with people. Though no one had said it outright Ed had a feeling Sirius was just as much under house arrest as Ed was.

“Ed!” he called out jovially when he saw the blond enter the kitchen. “Check it out! Nothing caught of fire this time.” Ed gave him a round of mock applause as the man referenced a growing meal time trend, that had lead to the two of them eating cereal for dinner on more than one occasion.

“Oooooh!-

“-who's the midget?” The twins said as they appeared behind Ed draping themselves over Ed’s shoulders showing off their height difference.

“Midget.” Ed hissed out he said as he whipped around grabbed the collars of each boy in a hand. “Wow. Never heard that one before. How  _ inventive. Fucking Brilliant.  _ Well this  _ Midget,”  _ Ed spat out. “Is about to break your goddamn kneecaps!”

“He’s really not that small you two.” Came the voice of the girl Weasley sibling. “You two just happen to be freakishly tall.”

“THANK YOU!” Ed said throwing his hands into the air inadvertently releasing the twins.

Sirius muffled a laugh as he introduced the new arrivals. “Ron, Ginny, and… Fred and George.” he said gesturing vaguely at the two of them.

“ **Pleasure to meet you!** ” they said in tandem, as they both stuck out their hands to shake. Ed accepted, purposely squeezing a bit hard bit his automail hand as he introduced himself.  _ Teach you to call me small. _

“Alright, Alright.” said Sirius as pulled apart the two parties and directed them to their seats. “That’s enough of that.”

“So Eddie darling, what are you doing here?” One of the twins asked, Sirius grabbing his arm as he prepared to lunge across the table.

“Ed’s here under the protection of the order.” Sirius replied for him as he he pushed Ed back into his seat.

“Oooooh-”

“-The Order-”

“-You couldn’t mean-”

“-The mysterious Order-”

“-No one will tell us about-”

-”would you?”

Sirius shoot the twins an unimpressed look. “You two know if it was up to me I’d let you all sit in at the meetings. However I think you mother would skin me alive if I so much as breathed a word to you two about our business.”

Ed glanced between the Weasley children as Sirius repeatedly assured the twins that there was nothing they could bribe him with that would get him to spill. Ron was openly staring at him, but it seemed his sister was a little better in the subtly department and her curious glances were much more disguised. Molly and Arthur joined them shortly, with Arthur looking slightly less hostile. Molly laid out sleeping arrangements for the kids with an authority rivaling Hawkeye, placing Ginny and another girl named Hermione in the master down the hall from his room, Ron in the smallest bedroom on the middle floor. While Fred and George were on the third floor with her and Arthur, and had absolutely beyond a doubt forbidden the boy’s from entering Buckbeak’s room, a room Ed still hadn’t asked about yet. Then to Ed’s utter horror, she laid out the  _ new  _ schedule.

Sirius looked just as miserable as him at the prospect of an intensive cleaning routine intent on making things  _ “habitable”.  _

_ “We could make a run for it, I spent most of my childhood avoiding people in this house I know some good spots. Sure, they might be infested with flesh eating bacteria now, but that might be the better option.” _ he hissed in Ed’s ear.

_ “I think I would rather risk cleaning then face her wrath. If I've learned anything in this life, is that if a woman tells you to do something in that tone of voice, you do it.”  _ Ed froze as Molly leveled a glare at the two of them. Ed and Sirius sprung apart pointedly not looking at each other.

“Fred, George, Edward you three take the third floor drawing room. Ginny, Ron, Sirius and I will finish the last two bedrooms on this floor. And Arthur?”

“Yes?”

“You need to get to work.” the man's eyes widened comically as he glanced at the wall clock before bolting for the fireplace. Ed felt pulse of power as green flames and Arthur’s energy disappeared.

“Now then,” Molly clapped her hands together in a way that reminder him eerily of Teacher. “Let’s get to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was this weeks chapter and I hope you enjoyed! While it's never explicitly stated in the books, a list I saw put the twin's height at about 5'11" which while smaller then Ron's 6'3", is quite a bit taller then Ed's 5'5". Ed can rest easy however, knowing that Ginny is 5'3'' meaning he is taller then someone... who is two years younger then him. But since I plan to keep Ed growing at the same rate as he does in the anime, he should overtake Hermione (and me) by the end of this, ending up at a nice 5'7"


	9. Lapis Philosophorum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione: (Enter stage right)

Ed watched the twins from out of the corner of his eye as they worked sending bolts of multicolored light from the ends of their wands as they worked to put the room back in order. Each one increased the tense buzzing under his skin, making him feel more and more like a live wire. Ed was forced to clean by hand as Moody had given him firm instructions to keep his Alchemy on the down low. The Order members who had heard of it were told that rather than it being some miraculous feat of magic like they had originally thought, it was nothing more than childhood instinctual magic acting in his defense. Only Remus, Dumbledore, Sirius, and Moody knew the truth of where we was from, and Ed planned on keeping it that way. At least until they understood the repercussions of his appearance. 

“Woah!” One of the twins let out a cry as a swarm of Doxies burst forth from the armoire the twins had been inspecting. The swarm of purple and brown hell spawn charged at the teenagers ripping at their hair and clothes, screaming in their shrill voices as they tore apart the room. Fred a George hurled bolts of energy of the pixies in between bouts of swearing as Ed struggled to beat them back with a small lamp.

“Oh no you don’t, you little bastard!” Ed growled as a Doxy attempted to relieve him of his pocket watch. Fred sent a freezing charm over Ed’s head hitting the pixie intent on ripping Ed’s braid out of his head, and Ed in turn sent a empty vase flying, knocking out the swarm aiming for his brother.

Despite the chaos and absurdity of the situation, Ed felt himself grinning wildly as they danced around the room freezing, and in Ed’s case knocking out, the seemingly unending wave of magical pests. After one exceptionally well placed smack with his weapon of choice, George made an excited comment about a lack of competition among beaters these days, whatever those where, and demanded Ed play with them sometimes.

Slowly but surely the cloud of Doxies thinned leaving the boy’s painting with exhaustion, the drawing room floor coated with a layer of fallen pixies. The twins lazily used their wands to collect them into piles, one of them conjuring up a cage to keep them in. An action that still made Ed feel sick to his stomach even after watching Sirius do much worse while he had been staying here. He watched as Fred subtly tucked a frozen Doxy in his pocket, shrugging and looking away when he met the twins eyes.

“Boy’s how’s it come-” Molly’s voice trailed off as she took in the state of the room and fixed them all with a hard stare.

“We got rid of the Doxy infestation?” George offered helplessly in their defense.

Needless to say, Molly put them on dish duty for the rest of the week as punishment for the sheer amount of destruction they had caused.

\---

Hermione stood at the entrance of the Black family library steeling herself to enter. While never one to shy away from knowledge, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be privy to the secrets held within the private library of a family of Death Eaters. But, things were changing and as Ginny and Ron had informed her, they were being left out of the loop. So, if they wanted to know what they were up against, this was the way.

She pushed her way into the room, the high shelves casting eerie shadows in the light of the lantern she held. Her eyes roamed over the bindings of the books that filled the stacks, the faded gold lettering on their spins flashing in the light as she passed. She came to a stop in front of the black tome, the title;  _ Curses to Control and Confound _   was scrawled in elegant script down the side. S etting down the light at her feet she reached out to grab the large book.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” Hermione muffled a scream as she whipped around, accidentally knocking the book off the shelf. A golden blur lunged forward and grabbed at the book, letting out a sigh of relief as they caught it before the book hit the ground. 

Hermione's eyes fixed on the boy illuminated by the light of her lantern. He stood about her height with long blond hair tied back in a ponytail and eyes that looked remarkably like professor Lupin’s.

“Who-?”

“Edward Elric.” the boy said cutting her off as he replaced the book back of the shelf. “And you must be the infamous Hermione Granger.” He continued, glancing over his shoulder at her.

“I-yes. How do-?” 

“Ron and Ginny were talking about a Hermione showing up, add that to the twins insistence that you were probably the only person alive who likes libraries as much as me… I saw a girl I hadn’t seen before, plus a library, Occam's Razor dictates you must be Hermione.”

“Are you muggle born?” she asked blinking owlishly at the odd teen. He looked slightly taken aback by her question.

“How’ya figure that?”

“Occam’s Razor, not exactly applicable in a magical word is it? I wouldn’t figure a Pureblood, or Half-Blood for that matter, would pay must attention to something like that.”

“Huh.” Edward shrugged and changed the subject, not answering her question. “I thought you weren't getting picked up till this evening?” 

“I was?” Hermione said fixing Edward with a confused look. “It’s nearly midnight.”

His eyes widened slightly as he reached down and flicked open an ornate silver pocket watch. “And so it is…” he murmured. “Wait?” he said looking back up at her, as if only now recognizing she was wearing her nightgown. “Then what are you doing in here?”

Hermione tried not to freeze under the glow of Edwards narrowed golden eyes. “I couldn’t sleep, so I was looking for something to read.” she lied. 

Ed looked unimpressed but shrugged all the same, as he raised his own lantern to illuminate the book she had been pulling off the shelf earlier. “Well, next time you’re looking for some late night reading, may I suggest not choosing one that likes to scream bloody murder when you open it?” Ed said, an eyebrow raised. Hermione blushed at her mistake, and tried to think o something to defend herself. “Nah, don’t sweat it.” Ed said waving his hand at her horrified expression. “It took me a while to learn the trick to all these books, I was driving Sirius crazy with how often I was waking up Mrs. Black. See this here?” he said tapping a faded symbol on the bottom of the book's spine that looked similar to a sideway Z with a horizontal slash down the middle. “It’s an old symbol for noise, and for anyone who recognizes it, it’s a nice little warning to silence the book before you read it.”

Hermione nodded as Ed drew her attention a little further down the stack and tapped on the spin of a dark green book with silver lettering. At the base of the book was another symbol, this one consisting of a thick downwards facing triangle and a thinner upwards facing point, like a triangle without a bottom, that overlapped it. “I know this one…”

“You do?” Ed said in surprise as he looked between Hermione and the symbol. “How?”

“I don’t know…” She murmured. “I must have seen it in ancient runes class…” She sighed in frustration the answer just out of reach.

“Poison.” Ed finally said after she was forced to admit defeat. “It’s the sign for poison. Arsenic, to be exact.”

“So the book poisons whoever reads it?”

“Well… yes and no? The pages are transmuted to secrete poison if touched by skin. So to read it, you need a pair of these.” he said wiggling his clothed fingers. “Even better, because the poison activates on skin contact, I could even eat off these gloves later and suffer no ill effects.”

“Transmuted?”

The boy waved his hand brushing off the question. “It’s the alchemical term for transfiguring.”

“Alchemy!” she slapped her palm against her forehead. “How could I be so stupid!”

“What? What’s stupid?” he said looking at her in confusion.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I just remembered where I had seen that poison symbol before.” this time it was her turn to wave off his question.

“No, no, where? Where have you seen that mark before?” Hermione jerked back as his hands latched onto her shoulders, flinching as they dug in painfully tight and tried to pull away. Ed yanked back letting her go, and looked at her guiltily. “Sorry… I just, where had you seen it before?”

“Flamel.” she said rubbing her arms where she was sure bruises would form by the morning. “I was researching Nicholas Flamel.” Ed’s eye’s got a far away look in them as he absentmindedly traced a design only he could see on his left shoulder. “Excuse me” she said pushing past him and back towards the entrance to the library.

She heard him say her name as she left the room, almost like he wanted to stop her but thought better of it. She kept moving, back down the landing to where she was sharing a room with Ginny, and away from Edward. But she couldn't help but wonder what it was about Flamel that had got him so worked up.

\---

When Sirius made his near nightly adventure to library to drag Ed back to insure he slept, he found the room looking like it had been hit by a hurricane. His eye’s widened as he took in the chaos that covered the study tables on the right side of the room where Ed would normally be found. Books lay spread around seemingly at random, held open by pages of notes covered by Ed’s now familiar scrawl. The teen in question was sitting cross legged in one of his mother's armchairs balancing an open book on one knee, and on the other was Ed’s notebook. The boy was thoroughly abusing the quill squashed in his hands, and he looked once again looked like he had lost a fight with an ink well.

“Ed? It’s time to head down now, you need to sleep.” The teen didn’t even spare him a glance as he kept working. Sirius knew from experience that the teen had a rather extraordinary case of selective hearing, and could almost completely tune out the world when he was engaged in his work. But, he hadn’t seen Ed in such a frenzy since the first weeks he had access to the library, and he couldn’t help but wonder what had brought this on. “Edward, it’s three in the morning, it’s time to head down.” he tried again as he moved closer. He knew better then to shake the teen when he was this deep in concentration if he didn’t want to end up pinned to the ground, or with an automail blade in his face. Pulling out his wand he cast a quick _lumos_ , knowing that Ed’s uncanny ability to pinpoint the use of magic around the house would held pull the boy back.

Ed lifted his head and blinked rapidly as if clearing his mind, reached into his pocket he fished out his silver watch and checked the time. “You let me work longer than normal today?”

Sirius shrugged. “Fell asleep after dinner and missed the normal time. As refreshing as they can be, hosting guests is exhausting work.” he watched at the teen stood, his legs a little unsteady as he straightened up, telling Sirius he had been in the same position for quite awhile now. Ed closed his books around his handwritten notes before organizing them against the far wall as if to clear space for another user who would never come. Even when the Black Household had been filled, the library hadn’t got much use, beyond Regulus's occasional ventures.

“Hey Sirius?” the kid asked in the middle of his clean up routine.

“Yeah?”

“What do you know about Nicholas Flamel?”

Sirius supposed the question made sense in some roundabout way, Ed was an Alchemist, Flamel was and Alchemist, maybe this was the kid’s way of asking about how alchemy worked here? “Not more than any average person I’m afraid." he said with a shrug. "He was a master Alchemist, graduate of Beauxbatons, and the first person to ever create a philosopher's stone.”

Ed turned around, looking pale in the light of his wands glow. “Beauxbatons is a wizarding school right?”

“Yeah, in France. Very traditional, a bit stuffy. Lot’s of old families in attendance.” 

“And Flamel? What happened to him?”

“He died, or at least he will soon. He and Dumbledore decided to destroy the stone a couple years back after Voldemort went after it.”

“So Dumbledore would know how to get in contact with him then?”

“Well yeah,” Sirius looked at Ed in confusion. “ _If_  he’s still alive.” Ed nodded his head as he placed the last of his books off to the side seemingly content with his answer. Bending over he retrieved the lantern he had brought with him and walked to the libraries exit, leaving Sirius alone to wonder at Ed’s random inquire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Just a heads up that the next few updates might not arrive on time. I'm flying out to Scotland in the next couple days and wont be back till the night of the 11th, and I'm not sure what my WiFi situation is going to be like. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I'll see you at the next one.


	10. In sleep what dreams may come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Harry enters stage right)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've just returned from Scotland, and come bearing the gift of a new chapter.

Chaos, was the word best suited to the state of the house when Ed woke up a few weeks after the incident with Hermione in the library. The house buzzed with the feeling of the excess energy of having more wizards present. Throwing one of his borrowed shirts and a pair of gloves, Molly had promised to take him with when she took the kids shopping for school surprise so he could buy some of his own, he stepped out into the hallway. Most of the lights were out and his watch told him it was far too early for Grimmauld Place to be receiving casual guests.

Slinking down the hallway, careful not to place too much pressure on the wooden floorboards with his metal foot, he made his way to the girl's room. Rapping quietly on the frame of the bedroom door he listened as the quiet whispering from inside silence.

“It’s just Ed, can I come in?” after a moment Ginny appeared, and Ed slipped through closing the door quietly behind him. He nodded silently in Hermione’s direction as he perched on the dresser the girls shared. “You two have any idea what’s going on out there?”

Ginny nodded slightly. “I don’t know exactly what's going on, but I know it has something to do with Harry.” That would certainly explain why everyone seemed so frantic… Ed hadn’t met the infamous “Boy Who Lived” yet but he’d heard plenty about him. Once Sirius and he had settled into a sort of rhythm, the man hadn’t been able to shut up about his godson. The Weasley's it seemed were equally infatuated. “It sounded like Harry had gotten into some sort of trouble, and I thought I heard dad say something about an attack.”

Ed opened his mouth to respond when a loud crack echoed around the bedroom. Ginny jolted startled, while Hermione brought her hand to her mouth to muffle her small scream of surprise. Ed, in turn, lowered his hands from where he had brought them up in preparation for an attack. 

“You’d have thought they’d seen a ghost eh’ Freddie?” George whispered to his twin as the three previous occupants of the room leveled glares at them.

“Oh don’t look like that,” Fred said as he pulled flesh looking stings from the pockets of his pajama pants. “We’ve brought gifts.”

The kids huddled close to the door as Fred quietly laid the strings along the edge of the wall before darting back into his sister's room. With only three of them, the teens elected Ginny, Hermione, and Fred to listen and relay the message back to Ed and George who sat back on the girl's beds to give the others space.

Hermione gasped, “Dementors!”

“Does this mean they’ve abandoned their posts at Azkaban?” Fred asked. The others conversed with each other under their breath but Ed sat to the side still lost deep in thought as he thought over the stories Sirius had told him. About a prison with great walls that towered over the sea without freedom in sight. Where men as thin as skeletons babbled about nothing, begging for the release of death. ‘But,’ Sirius had said, ‘For as terrible a place as Azkaban is, the prison itself has nothing on the Dementors that guard it.’

Ed jerked his head upright suddenly as he felt the familiar buzz that signaled an approaching wizard. Ed waved his arm frantically to catch the other teen’s attention and motioned out into the hallway. It took a second, but the twins eyes widened and the apparated away. Ginny and Hermione’s locked gazes, and quietly as they could dashed to their beds. Ed snagged the brunette’s wrist as she rushed passed and placed a finger on his lips. Walking over as quietly as his leg allowed he picked up a stack of magic books Hermione had staked on her end table. Carefully he led her to the door, and timing it out perfectly, he released Hermione’s wrist as pushed open the bedroom door. Her eye’s widened for a moment before she caught Ed’s subtle shake of his head. 

“Thanks for the books Hermione, I’ll return ‘em soon as I can!” Ed backed out of the room arms laden with books pretending he didn't see Remus in his peripheral vision. Turning around quickly he almost smacked into the man, only catching himself at the last possible second.

“Edward!” Remus half-shouted in surprise. “What are you doing out and about this late at night?”

“Hermione was just lending me some books is all,” Ed said as innocently as he could muster. “I meant to grab them from her earlier, but I lost track of time.”

“Did you need something professor?” Hermione asked, the question coming off almost as genuine as Ed’s answer had been.

Rumus blink as if remembering why he had been heading their way. “I did. I was hoping I could ask Hermione some questions?”

Perfect. “I’ll get out of your hair then,” Ed said, sending a backward sort of wave as he wandered back to his room.  Dementors, Potter, and an attack… he thought to himself, They’ll be bringing here for protection I imagine. More eyes on number 12, and more eyes on me...

\---

Ed was right, two nights later his research in the library was once again interrupted by yelling. Ed had started to drift off, having managed to smuggle a few books back to his room and study through the previous night, when the sounds of angry yelling met his ears. Ed rubbed his eyes and shrugged on his black jacket to cover his automail as he made his way out of his bedroom. 

Sirius and Mrs. Weasley stood in the living room the redheaded woman wringing her hands anxiously. 

“What's going on?” Ed asked with a yawn as the yelling continued from the floor above.

“Harry's not taking being left in the dark about all of this very well.” The way Sirius stressed the words told Ed it was likely something the man had argued against. Sirius’s opinions, Ed had learned often went unlistened to. Something the man had ranted in length about to Ed, and Remus, when he was there to listen. 

“He's gonna wake something up if he keeps yelling like that.” Ed scrubbed his flesh hand over his eyes. 

“Maybe I should go talk-” Sirius was cut off as the door the kitchen swung open. Mad-eye sent a nod Ed’s direction, and he returned the gesture with a small wave. 

“You two, meetings started.” He growled out. Molly and Sirius made their way reluctantly to the kitchen. Sirius sending a worried look up the stairs as he passed. 

Ed glanced upwards at the origin of the noise, and with a sigh, made his way up the ancient stairs. Massaging his temples with his flesh hand as he went. As he grew closer to Ron’s room the muted yelling became clearer until he could make out the words being said. Hermione’s voice broke in, clearly in an attempt to defend herself and Ron, saying something about Dumbledore, only to be cut off again by Harry’s yells. Ed took that as his cue to enter, hoping that he wasn't too late to keep Harry from accidentally waking something nasty up. 

“Excuse me!” Ed practically had to shout to be heard over the sounds of the teen's anger. “I think it's in everyone's best interest if you could shut up for a moment.” 

The black haired teen looked at him with an expression two parts baffled and one part wary. Ed realized that might have been a bit too blunt a way to start out, but a lack of sleep kept him from caring too much. “I’m sorry?” Asked Harry incredulously. “Who are you exactly?”

“Ed.” He replied shortly, not in the mood for pleasantries. “Look, kid,” he began again with a sigh. “I know you got left in the dark, and I know that sucks, but right now you're standing to in a household full all manner of folks, magical and otherwise who enjoy a good night's sleep.” He paused. “So if you would please keep it down before something shows up to make you?”

Harry shot a sideways look at his friends, and after a moment Hermione gave a short nod of agreement. He gave an exasperated sigh and collapsed onto Ron’s bed defeated. Ed had the distinct impression that it was only his presence, the presence of a stranger, that kept Harry from continuing. 

\---

Harry watched the blond out of the corner of his eye where he leaned casually against the door frame. The teen was smaller than him by a bit but appeared a good deal stronger. His golden eyes gleamed with a familiar light, and he couldn't help but wonder how Ed had ended up like he was. 

Hermione and Ron weren't friends with him, that much had been clear when he had entered the room. The look Ron had given him was far too cold, and Hermione’s too wary. Harry couldn't say whether this was due to the teen's werewolf blood, or if Ed had done something else to put them on edge. But whatever it was, he carried a strange air with him, almost like he wasn't completely with them. Not above them, per say, just apart. Existing on his own plane. 

“Is there something you needed Edward?” Hermione asked, her voice slightly hesitant. 

“Not really,” he said pushing off the frame so he stood centered in the doorway. “Only wanted to ask that the volume is kept down.” He paused for a moment, his eyes leveling with Harry's. He got the distinct impression he was being sized up, and he felt himself straighten on instinct. “If you'll excuse me,” Ed said sending a quick nod their way before disappearing backward onto the landing outside the room like a ghost. 

“Is he?-” Harry started as soon as the door clicked shut behind the retreating figure. 

“Always like that?” Ron finished for him. “Yeah.” He shook his head dropping onto the bed next to Harry. “Weird guy Elric, don't really know much about him, and he hasn't really offered anything up. I think Mum’s trying to adopt him too though.” 

“He’s here under the Order’s protection?” Hermione offered. “And, he's looking for something.” She added after a breath. 

“Looking for something?” Harry asked. 

“Yeah? How d’yeh figure that?” Ron said in confusion, seemingly on the same page as Harry with this particular revelation. 

“Well,” she fiddled absently with the cuff of her jumper. “If he's not with us cleaning, or off with Sirius-” Harry straightened at the mention of his godfather. “He’s in the library. And I mean, I've seen the stacks he leaves behind. They're not random, I mean, I'm not sure what it is he's looking for exactly, but,  if I had to guess I would say he’s trying to do something. A spell or ritual, or something.” She hesitated. “I know that's really vague-”

“It's more than we knew five minutes ago,” Harry said with a sense of finality as he cut her off. 

“Does it really matter?” Ron said, glancing between his friends. “I mean, I don't really like the bloke, but the Order seems to trust him. Does it really matter what he gets up to on his own time?”

Harry was silent for a moment, hesitantly he answered. “It doesn't, not really. But don't you find it odd? We've never heard of Elric before, then just out of the blue, he's being protected in the very heart of the Order.”

“So what? You don't trust him?”

“I think… these days, trust is earned. I don’t think he’s a Death Eater or anything, but, you can't be too careful.”

Ron conceded to his friend's argument, leaving the trio in silence. “I know it might not seem like it,” Hermione started. “With all the secrets being kept, and how unhelpful we've been, but we are really glad to see you, Harry.”

“I know.” Harry reached up and used his shirt to clear off the smudges littering his glasses. “And I'm sorry for shouting at you too. I've just felt so helpless holed up at the Dursley’s. I want to be doing something, I want to help, but instead, I'm being treated like a child. This is my life. I'd like to think I have something of a say in it.”

“Oh Harry, of course you have a say in it.” Hermione sighed. “Honestly, I think the Orders refusal to tell us anything is more for their benefit. They don’t want to have to see us as adults, because accepting that we’ll have to fight too, is accepting that it's all happening again. They all lost people during the first war, they just don’t want to lose us to Harry.”

The three of them sat silently shoulder to shoulder on Ron’s bed as the air of Hermione’s last thought filled the room. All three leaped to their feet as a loud crack echoed through the room.

“Hiya Harry!” one of the twins laughed at the shocked looks on all their faces.

“My, my, you three look like someone’s up and died.”

“We thought we heard you-”

“But then we heard Eddie-”

“And knew we needed to pop down and see.” Fred finished off.

“So where is the little midget?”

“You've just missed him,” Ron told his brothers, clearly irritated by being startled. “And you two really should be careful saying things like that when he’s in the area. You're both lucky he hasn’t killed you get over that midget thing.”

“Kill us?”

“Never.” they said in tandem.

“Rip off arm-”

“Maybe a leg-”

“But kill us?”

Hermione frowned at them. “Still, antagonizing him like that is bound to end poorly.”

“Yes Mother.” the twins said, identical grins painted across their faces. Hermione rolled her eyes and made as if to say more as the door to the room was pulled open. Ginny stood framed in the doorway her red hair had gotten longer since Harry had seen her last, and she appeared to have grown a couple inches.

“Good,” she said taking in the sight of the five of them in Ron’s tiny bedroom. “You're all here.” Closing the door she moved to stand by Hermione, with her back to the rooms small window. “Bad news, Order figured out how we kept getting information from the closed meetings, and Moody’s shielded the bottom of the door.”

“Damn,” George cursed. “And we had just finished up with a new batch of extendable ears. Looks like we’ll be needing a new way in.”

“For now we’ll have to see if we can wheedle anything out of Bill.”

\---

WIth a sigh, Ed removed his ear from the place he had thinned the wall. The unused study next to the youngest Weasley boys’ room had proven a valuable location for eavesdropping. After Ginny had informed the others of the complications in their own spying endeavors the conversation had veered away from anything that might interest Ed. Instead, focusing on school and the prices of textbooks.

Careful to monitor the signatures of those in the room next to him, Ed crept back down the stairs to his own room. Collapsing onto his bed Ed’s last thought of cautiousness, was how strange his head suddenly felt.

When Ed opened his eyes again he knew instantly he was dreaming. The familiar sights and smells of the Amestrian countryside flooded his senses. After so long indoors, the fresh air felt heavenly and he tilted his head back, the sun's light to consuming his face in its warmth. He allowed himself to indulge the beauty of it all, even knowing it was an illusion that would soon come to an end.

Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and looked around him wondering where it was his dreams had brought him. He stood on top of a hill overlooking the outskirts of the village he and Greed’s gang had been squatting in. In fact even as he thought that he could see the three figures of his friends, slowly approach.

Each of them bore an unpleasant look on their faces and Darrius kept looking over his shoulder. Ed found himself looking over each of them for injuries they might have got from the fight they seemed to be preparing to have the last time he saw them. Only to stop himself with how insane that sounded. “You guys miss me yet?” he asked in their direction as they drew closer. “I bet you do. I mean, you've lost half the groups IQ with my departure.” Ed said it with a laugh, but the words still sounded hollow as they left his mouth. “Well, I miss you...” he murmured quietly. “It’s weird here. The Alchemy, the people, the world. It makes my head hurt just trying to wrap my mind around it.” 

Ed fell into step with Greed, and he knew that was who it was by his posture. Ling was a royal, and had been raised as such, even soaked in blood in Gluttony’s stomach he had stood tall. Greed on the other hand slouched, shoulders pulled forward and defensive. So much like a moody teenager that it made Ed want to laugh, especially considering his relationship with Father. “It’s weird, every time I come across a new spell, or charm, or potion, or a find out about a new magical creature I can't help but think about how ecstatic you would be. A whole new world, and yours for the taking. Well,” he added with a smile. “Al would fight you for the animals. If he ever finds out how many people here own cats… Truth help us all.” So absorbed in his own ramblings, Ed failed to notice Heinkel stopping in front of him. It was as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on him as he stumbled straight through the body of the lion chimera. Gasping for breath he whirled around to find Heinkel’s eyes locked on him. Darrius narrowed his gaze in his direction like he couldn’t quite see him, while Greed stood glancing between the two of them in confusion.

“ **_What? What is it?_ ** ” 

“Kid?” Heinkel asked, his eyes fixed in bewilderment on Edward's toppled form. And for a moment, Ed could no longer convince himself he was dreaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters should return to normal Wednesday updates next week.


	11. Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed wants answers, and for once Dumbledore is willing to help him get them.

“Kid? Is that you?” Ed stared up at the face of the lion chimera. It was a peculiar thing, being seen through. Heinkel was certainly staring directly at him, but his eyes still moved slightly as if searching for something that wasn’t there.

**_“Hey Lion King? What are you babbling about?”_ ** Greed asked, fixing the man with a curious gaze.

“I just thought…” he shook his head as if to clear it. “Never mind, it was nothing.”

“No.,” said Darrius. “I felt it too.”

**_“Felt what? What’s going on?”_ **

“I could have sworn I could-” he cut himself off. “No, I still can feel something.” he turned away from Ed to lock eyes with the Sin. “It was like what we felt the other night. A sort of presence lingering just out of sight. At the time we were worried it could be a Homunculus, but for a second just there it was almost like I could smell him.”

**_“Smell who?”_ **

“The kid, Edward.” Greed froze at Heinkel's declaration, he to narrowing his eyes where the lion had indicated the feeling was coming from. 

Ed watched it all with wide eyes, his brain frantically trying to wrap itself around what was happening.  _ Can they see me? No _ . he corrected himself, they could feel him. Sense him with those animal instincts that they were always talking about. Ling too! He had always been able to feel things the others couldn’t. Just like Ed had been able to do in this world with the wizards. Ed felt giddy, theories and questions flooding his mind as he staggered to his feet in front of his friends.

“It’s less now.” he heard Heinkel say and he felt his heart stop in his chest. “I can’t smell him anymore. The presence is still there but fainter now and disappearing by the second.”

“What? What are you guys talking about?” Ed asked in confusion. “What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Same over here,” Darrius added with a grunt.

“Guys… I’m right here.” Ed said his words sounding desperate as they left his lips. “Come on! Mr. Gorilla? Greed? I’m right here! Ling?” He reached out to his friends, his hand stopping just short of Darius's coat, the memory of falling through Heinkel still fresh in his mind. 

Suddenly something yanked violently on the back of Ed’s head. He whirled around to defend himself only to find a host of black hands reaching out for him. Ed let out a cry of fear as he tried to pull away, the hands grabbing hold of his body and yanking him back to the top of the hill where the portal had opened. Scrambling for purchase, Ed watched in horror as his hands passed straight through the grasses and roots he was being over. And with a last strangled plea to his friends for help, he was pulled into the gateway. 

Ed bolted upright in a cold sweat, gasping as he doubled over, head spinning. Staggering out of his bed Ed shoved open the door to the hallway and stumbled a few doors down to the small bathroom he shared with the girls. Reaching down, he turned on the faucet and splashed a couple handfuls of freezing water on his face. Drawing in a shaky breath Ed slid down the wall onto the tiled floor, resting limply against the peeling wallpaper. His chest felt constricted, the painful after-effect of being deconstructed and then reconstructed again, and his stumps ached with phantom pain. 

Carefully he brought his flesh hand up to massage his shoulder port, gritting his teeth as the movement pulled on the fresh scarring on his abdomen. There must be a storm coming… he thought to himself weakly, it always hurts before a storm. 

His dream had been odd though. Storms and phantom pains guaranteed that bad dreams were par for the course, more often than not featuring the night he and Al had committed the taboo. So the end of his dream where he had been pulled through the gate was a fairly normal occurrence, but that first part… Ed could hardly remember the last time he had experienced a dream so vivid. He wanted to write it off as his mind playing with his wishful thinking, but some part of him fought against that assertion.  _ Could it...? Could it have been real? _

Edward was a scientist, he worked with facts and solid ideas, ideas that could then be combined to make new ideas and so on. Inanine speculation and magic were so far beyond what he knew that it made his head hurt just thinking about it. He needed to know more, had to know more, but he was getting nowhere with Sirius's books. There was just too much to process, and so much of it was half-assed and weekly backed up. Spells that had been created by accident that everyone just accepted without wondering why, why it had worked when others had not. There was too much information, and he knew he needed a way to narrow it all down. Sirius was great, but he had been raised in magic. Hermione was an option, she had been born into the outside world. But, he couldn’t tell her about Alchemy, and with how curious she and her friends were… it would only invite trouble.

So it would seem his original plan stood. He needed to get in contact with Dumbledore, who had become irritatingly scarce since his arrival in Grimmauld place. Because, if Sirius was to be believed, he was the only one who would know how to get in contact with Nicholas Flamel.

\---

Sirius watched from the hall as his godson made his way out of Number 12 on his way to his trial. While he knew logically that Harry was only on his way to a disciplinary hearing, he had been struck with an unwarranted wave of panic and anxiety at the thought of him going to the place that had condemned him to a life in Azkaban. Causing him to spend much of the morning in a haze, or trying not to mother Harry too much. Pushing off from the wall he leaned against, he ran his hand wildly through his hair as he made his way to the kitchen to start on lunch.

Sirius froze as he reached the doorway, as he could already hear the sounds of Molly moving about the kitchen cooking. Unsure of how to proceed, he hovered awkwardly at the entry. He and Molly had been on poor terms ever since he had fought to allow the kids access to the order meetings, and he didn't feel like escalating tensions between the two of them was a good idea.

“Sirius?” he whipped around as Ed’s voice came from behind him. The blonds normally vibrant hair hung limply in the braid he had it tied back in, and large bags hung under his eyes. The kid had missed breakfast that morning, and while he had found it odd, he had been too preoccupied with thoughts of Harry to think much on it.

“Are you doing okay Ed? You aren’t looking that good.” He responded as he took a step towards the teenager.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” he assured. “Just a little tired.” Ed reached up and rubbed where Sirius knew his false arm started. “Do you think I could talk to you for a moment?”

“Sure,” he replied, some of his worry slipping into his voice. He followed behind Ed by a couple paces, taking note of how pronounced his limp appeared today. Sirius found himself struggling to remember when the last time the teen had looked well rested. 

Ed led him to an office that had at one point belonged to his father. The fading wallpaper and sagging bookshelves brought back memories of childhood adventures and of the few times, he had been able to convince his brother to join him. 

Sirius turned the face the kid, “What’s up?” he asked

“I need to get a message to Dumbledore. I thought he would show up to take Harry to his trial, but clearly, that didn’t happen. And, from what I hear, it seems Harry is under the impression that the old man is ignoring him. Which means it seems rather unlikely he’ll be coming by here anytime soon.”

“So you want me to get in contact with him for you?” Sirius frowned. “I can  _ try, _ but I can’t guarantee how successful that will be. I don’t own an owl, and I haven't been able to produce a Patronus for years now. So I can't use it to pass the message for me.”

Ed shook his head. “I don’t know what a Patronus is, but seeing as what I’m asking should be kept between as few people as possible, if you can’t personally do it yourself, then it’s not a good option. As for the owl, I overheard Arthur talking about the ministry intercepting them?”

“Ed, what are you doing that requires so much secrecy?” he asked, looking down at the teen with bewilderment.

Ed hesitated for a moment before replying. “I’m trying to get in contact with Nicholas Flamel.” 

_ Is that why he was asking about him a couple nights back? _ “Why? Flamel’s an old man, a dying old man  _ If _ he’s even still alive at all. What could you want with him?”

“Flamel’s an Alchemist, a gifted Alchemist. Probably the best one this world has ever seen, and from what I’ve seen the alchemy of this world shares key elements to what we use back home. I think… that the best chance I have of getting home is talking to Flamel. Magic doesn’t work in my world, so it must have been alchemy that brought me here.” he paused. “Alchemy brought me here, so alchemy can get me back.”

Ed sounded borderline desperate as he looked up at him through hooded eyes. Sirius didn’t think he’d ever seen the boy look so wild, not even when he was trying to escape the house. It struck him as so out of character for the confident young man he had been living with. It was then he realized,  _ then _ that it really hit home, Ed was just a kid. 

_ Of course _ , he was desperately wanting to go home,  _ damn _ the risk of involving himself with someone who had been targeted by the Dark Lord before. He was just a kid. Did Ed have a family he was trying to get back to? Friends? Hell Sirius didn’t even know the kid's age. For all that Ed talked about when it was just the two of them, he never talked about himself, not really. Just ‘Amestris is divided into five subsections. I grew up in farming country. I didn’t attend much school as a kid.’ Impersonal observations. Enough to make it feel like he was telling them things, but nothing that really gave anything away. 

Sirius felt cold.

“If I write out a message, can you pass it to Alastor?” 

_ Who was this kid? _ With his golden eyes even brighter than Moony’s, he who had put up a mask so strong that Sirius had forgotten he was talking to a child?

Sirius felt himself nodding as he watched the strange look on Edward's face melt into one of relief.

“Thank you.” the boy said fleeing the room with much more light in his eyes than there had been when he entered. He sounded so genuinely thankful, Sirius felt it hard to equate Ed to the cold feeling the boy had given him only moments before.  _ Who are you, Edward Elric? _

\---

Dumbledore kneaded his temples as he sat in his office overlooking the piles of paperwork he needed to finish before the start of term. Most were the usual forms, teachers contracts, financial aid requests, and last minute repairs to the castle and it its grounds. However, unfortunately, some pertained to a certain ministry assigned Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and it was those that were causing him a headache.

Dumbledore had known anyone Fudge would assign to the school would be a nightmare, but he had no idea how true that was until he had the unpleasant honor of meeting the woman at Harry’s trail that afternoon. Dolores Umbridge had been a spiteful young woman during her years at school, and it seemed her years out in the world had done nothing to temper her. He remembered with frightful clarity an incident in her sixth year where a fellow Slytherin girl of her year, a cousin of the Carrows if he remembered correctly, had gotten into a rather nasty fight with Dolores that ended with the girl mocking her for her Half-Muggle heritage. He also remembered the girl's parents coming to collect her later that week, the girl resolutely refusing to reveal who it was who had attacked her.

Dumbledore raised his head as Fawkes gave a soft coo from his perch announcing someone's arrival at his chamber door. With a wave of his hand, he sent the staircase moving to allow his late night visitor in. Alastor entered his room with uneven steps, his wand drawn and pointed as was his custom. “Who stood in this office the last time I was here?” the old Auror demanded without even the illusion of pleasantries.

With a quiet smile, he responded. “If I’m not mistaken, it was myself, Minerva, Kingsley, young Ms. Tonks and yourself.” Moody narrowed his eyes and slowly dropped his wand, before approaching his desk. “What is it that brings you by so last at night Alastor?” Dumbledore asked of his old friend.

“The boy, the one the Death Eaters are after, he has a message for you.” Alastor held out a sealed letter in his grizzled old hands, Dumbledore accepted, looking to the Auror for clarification.

“Did you read it?”

“Glanced at it when Black gave it to me.” Dumbledore nodded as he slid a silver letter opener along the fold splitting open the fresh seal that bore a vaguely familiar cross adorned with a serpent. “I saw the boy on my way out, he needs to do some maintenance on that shoulder of his, I doubt he’s even aware of how bad it’s gotten.”

“Ah yes,” Dumbledore murmured as he scanned the unsteady scrawl the letter was written in. “Our guest’s most peculiar limbs. From what could what you could see, have you any idea what could have caused him those injuries?”

“Couldn’t say, the metal covers the slumps completely.”

Albus paused. “Well, for now,” Dumbledore said. “what young Edward chooses to keep to himself is his own business.” glancing up, he locked eyes with Alastor. “And what do you make of his request to speak to Flamel?”

“Moving him seems like an unnecessary risk. You know Flamel won’t do correspondence, not in times like this. And well, we know for a fact the Death Eaters want the boy back after what happened in Glasgow.”

Dumbledore hummed in acknowledgment. “Normally I would agree with you, as this will place Edward, and Nicholas and his wife in danger, but I fear what remains of the stone will not be enough to sustain my old friend for much longer. However, if it is as Edward says it is, and Nicholas is his best chance for answers, I feel we must try and unite the two.”

“Surely there are other Alchemists out there that he could meet with after everything's said and done?”

“None that we could trust with something as important as this. If, after everything's said and done as you say, and the Ministry was to find that boy? He would never see the light of day again. They would lock him so deep in the Department of Mysteries, even the memory of him would disappear.”

Alastor nodded in resignation, they were both acutely aware of how easily the Unspeakables could sweep unwanted things under the rug. “If Flamel accepts, when Potter and the Weasley children are being brought to the station, I’ll have Elric sent to Flamel’s through the Floo. Last I heard, his fireplace wasn’t connected to the system so there shouldn’t be anyone watching it if we set it up for a one-shot hop from headquarters.” Dumbledore nodded, satisfied with the plan.

“Now then, about another matter regarding our young Mr. Elric, Diagon Alley. Molly has requested to take the boy out to buy him whatever he may need for an extended stay.” Alastor opened his mouth to object. “Regardless, of if he stays at Number Twelve or leaves to stay with Flamel, Edward would probably like to dress in clothing not belonging to a young Sirius Black at some point. Don’t you think?”

“Albus, taking him out in broad daylight is far too risky. Send Molly and one of her boys with her and use them! I hear she’s planning to pick up a fair amount for the youngest one after you made him a Prefect. Or, better yet, have Molly take his measurements beforehand! There’s no need to send Elric in person.”

“Your first suggestion is somewhat closer to what I had in mind,” Dumbledore smiled slightly. “If you recall our dear Professor McGonagall is quite gifted in the art of transfiguration.”

“Why would that be any better Albus? If the point is to place Elric there in person to have him sized for clothing, how would it help to have him taking the form of a Weasley? Besides, we both know using transfiguration to look exactly like a person is almost impossible.”

“We don’t need him to be a Weasley thankfully, in this instance all we need in for Edward to not look himself. The spell work will have to be reapplied after Gringotts I’m afraid, the Hogwarts vault is deep enough that the protection spells of the bank will wash off any disguise. But Molly is more than capable of whipping up something suitable for the trip from the bank to the shops, at which point Ed will be free to show his face. As of last I checked, Madam Malkin was hardly a Death Eater.” The last part was said with a good natured chuckle.

Moody shook his head in disbelief. “Seems a bit much for a simple shopping trip don’t you think?”

Dumbledore sighed quietly and brought his hands down so they laid flat across the desk. “Alastor, that boy has been inside for over a month and a half, and before that, he was locked in a dungeon. If we don’t let him out on our terms, that boy is going to see fit to leave on his own, which as we both know, would be very bad.”

Alastor nodded and agreement and made as if to leave, but stopped himself just short of the door. “Albus, the word among the Death Eaters seems to be that he’s some sort of weapon.” he paused. “What do we do if that turns out to be the truth?”

Dumbledore’s eyes grew hard as he looked down at his friend. “We must simply hope that is not the case."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this weeks update!


	12. Diagonally

Ed eyed the witch’s wand with trepidation. “And you're sure this won’t kill me?” he asked with disbelief. Sirius laughed quietly from where he stood leaning against the wall of Ed’s room and shot him a thumbs up.

The stern looking woman fixed him with an even gaze and sighed. “Mr. Elric, please if you would allow me to do this already.”

“Fine,” he muttered, drawing in a deep breath and nodding. Ed fixed his eyes the Wall Mirror and stared at his reflection as she raised her wand. Ed felt a tremor go down his spine as the woman pulled her magic forward and began to work. His eyes widened in shock as his long golden hair retreated back up into his skull, darkening and curling slightly until it reached just below his chin. Next, his skin, having grown pale in the past month, return to its normal hue, then darkened slightly more as a sea of freckles broke under his eyes and across his nose. Then slowly the quiet tension that sang in his bones relaxed as the magic was finished.

Ed leaned towards the mirror as he ran his fingers along the stranger's face he was wearing, marveling at how light his head felt with the much shorter brown locks.

“Don’t you think the eyes are a bit of a giveaway? I've never seen someone with ones as bright as his.” Ed heard Sirius ask behind him.

“Perhaps.” he heard the sounds of the woman gathering her things, her Emerald robes swishing as she walked. “But transfiguring something like eyes is risky business, and seeing as my goal was not to blind Mr. Elric, a felt it best to leave them as is.”

“A fair point Professor.” Sirius conceded. In the back of his mind, Ed heard him ask the woman if he could show her out, leaving Ed alone to study his new appearance. The scientist in him was running calculations at an almost frantic pace, the concept of this, so close to human transmutation was earth shattering.

The magic here could regrow limbs, and heal mortal wounds. Here faces could be changed in the blink of an eye, and illness could be cured with a wave of a wand. His mother would never have died if they had lived in this world. It wouldn’t have mattered that Hohenheim had left, that Ed had been too stupid to notice her getting sick until it was too late because magic could have saved her. Magic could have made Al a body, could heal Havoc’s spin, give Lan fan back her arm, and here Ed stood with the perfect solution to everything, a world away from everyone who needed him.

He didn’t know why it was hitting him now, he’d been here for ages now. Every morning he watched Sirius perform some inane task with magic, or caught a glimpse of Sirius’s elusive house elf disappearing in a flash. But for whatever reason, it all suddenly felt real. Ed slid down the wall and buried his head in his arms. His face feeling fake and foreign as he wiped away the tears building up in his eyes.

The magical residue that clung to the house clung to him to now, making his skin feel too tight for his bones. The panicky flighty feeling he had felt since he arrived in the world grew worse and worse by the second the more and more he comprehended how far away from home he was. Ed thought desperately of his brother, traveling through the country with the Briggs soldiers, and found to his horror that he couldn’t remember the last thing he had said to him.

“Ed.”

He thought of Winry’s earrings that he had tucked inside his watch for safe keeping. He’d never get to return them now.

“Edward.”

He thought of Mustang and Hawkeye in Central, surrounded by enemies with no way out. They were counting on him, counting on him to figure things out and bring them back up. But now he was so so far away.

“Edward!”

Ed was shocked back into the moment as he felt strong hands clasp around his shoulders. He reeled as far back as he could against the wall trying to twist out of the tight hold that kept him in place.

“Ed! Hey, hey! It’s just me. Relax. It’s just me.” Sirius appeared in front of him, his eyes wide with concern. Ed dropped his head back relaxing into his grasp, still unable to shake the feeling of tightness in his bones that made his own skin feel claustrophobic. “Just breath kid, easy now.” Sirius waited a moment, his strong hands grounding him in place. “You good?”

Ed gave a nod, his heart was still beating too fast and his skin still felt too tight, but Sirius’s presence helped him fight the sensation of drowning in the magic. “Yeah,” his voice sounded weak, even to his own ears. “Yeah, I’m good.” Planting his hands on the wall behind him he staggered to his feet. Sirius made a quiet sound of dismay but didn’t try to stop him. Instead, he gently led Ed over to his bed and pushed his shoulders down so he was seated again.

“What happened?” Sirius asked. Ed couldn’t help but notice that his voice was a lot more careful than usual as he gave a noncommittal shrug. “Ed,” he sounded tired. “I’m not judging, I just need to know if you're okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re really not.”

Ed reached up and scrubbed at his face with his Automail hand, the flesh one feeling too foreign, and Ed was half afraid it wouldn’t respond. His fingers clinked lightly as he moved, the metal feeling nice, almost like if he pushed hard enough he would be able to peel off the magical skin that had been cast on him. He realized he had been rubbing at his skin too long when Sirius gently pulled his hand away and kept it locked in his grasp. “Sorry.” he breathed out quietly. He could feel how raw the fabric of his gloves had rubbed his nose.

“Nothing to apologize for.” He responded gently. “Just tell me what’s up kid.”

“I-” Ed choked on his words. His paranoia and worry about not giving away his advantages came flashing back into his mind. He stopped for a moment, as he stared at the concerned look on Sirius’s face. In the grand scheme of things he hadn’t know Sirius all that long, under no normal circumstances would he ever be considering giving up something like this. Handing him the proverbial knife and turning his back, went against every instinct he knew. That had been day one training from Mustang, even now he could still hear the Colonel’s words echoing in his ears. 

“You’re a very gifted young man Elric, and that’s going to draw a lot of eyes, and a lot of offers. It will do you well to learn you have no friends among them.”

“Worried your new star is gonna get snatched away from you eh’ Colonel? How do I know you’ve got my best interests at heart?”

He’d shrugged then, on his face that stupid smirk Ed would soon learn to hate. “You don’t. Like I said Kid, you’d be hard pressed to find yourself any friends here.”

But Sirius wasn’t some ambitious general looking to climb the ranks by any means necessary, Sirius was… well, Ed didn’t quite know what Sirius was. But, somehow, he knew he could trust him.

“Kid?”

Ed steeled himself and took a breath. “I can feel it. The magic.” he clarified. “Ever since I got here. Sometimes it’s just a tingle, like having a word on the tip of your tongue, or thinking you've seen something out of the corner of your eye. But other times, the more magic there is, or the more powerful it is, it’s more like standing on the tracks and hearing a train coming. The impact never comes, but the anticipation is almost worse.” he paused. “And I guess it just got too much. You know how some people can’t handle confined space because they feel like the walls are closing in? Well right now, with whatever was done to me to change how a look, is making my skin feel like those walls.”

Sirius stared at Ed, his eyes widening with understanding. He could see Sirius remembering all the times Ed had been able to tell if someone had arrived, or how the best way to catch Ed’s attention was to cast a simple spell his direction. Ed started as he was surrounded by a sudden warmth. Sirius arms wrapped around him tightly, pulling him into a firm hug. Ed raised his arms stiffly, cautiously returning the embrace. “I was never very good at this type of Transfigurations, so I wouldn’t trust myself to fix this. But if you like, I can ask Molly to come in and we can call it all off?”

The offer was a tempting one, but Ed shook his head. “No, no I’ll be fine. I want to do this.”

“Are you sure?” Sirius asked. “Diagon Alley is going to be flooded with magic, are you sure it won’t be too much?” he pulled back so he could look him in the face.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Ed straightened up as he smoothed out the wrinkles in his coat absentmindedly, not quite willing to meet Sirius’s eyes. “I think it caught me off guard more than anything, The same thing happened when you and Remus brought me here at first. I think it wasn’t as bad that time because while I was unconscious it gave my body time to adjust. I just need to push through it for awhile and I’ll be fine.”

“I can’t say that sounds like the healthiest response to pain, but I’m really not one to judge. Ignore it till it kills me was kind of the Order's motto the first time round.” Sirius gave a fond smile. "Granted, it was almost completely comprised of twenty somethings at the time- But it worked for us.”

“You sound like my teacher,” Ed said, a little humor slipping back into his voice. “If you’re not spitting up blood, you haven't been working hard enough!” 

Sirius gave a small laugh, as he started to get a clearer picture of how piss and vinegar Edward Elric had been created. The two were interrupted by a firm knock at the bedroom door.

“Edward dear, are you ready to go?”

Sirius sent one last look his way asking if he was ready, while Ed pushed himself upright. He knew he needed to look convincingly steady on his feet to convince Mrs. Weasley that he hadn’t suddenly come down with something. Effectively sentencing himself to spend the next three weeks locked in his room with only a steady stream of soup to keep him company. “Yeah, on my way out.”

Sirius got the door for him as he shouldered a bag he had lent him for shopping, and he stepped out to meet Mrs. Weasley in the hallway. She gave him a quick look up and down, her hands landing in his hair as she muttered something about even now needing a haircut. Eventually, she seemed satisfied, even if her eyes lingered on his for a second too long, that his disguise would work.

They walked into the living room where Ron and Harry were bent over a game of chess. Ron seemed to be beating Potter by a good mile, as his queen rose up from her throne and cracked her ornate chair over the head of an unfortunate knight. _ Bet Mustang would like one of those… Or maybe not, with that whole chess metaphor thing he has going on. _

“Ed?” he was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Harry’s confused voice.

“Wow Professor McGonagall went all out, I hardly recognized you mate,” Ron said with appreciation. Ed ran his fingers through his brown curls in agreement as he stepped up alongside Molly at the fireplace. She handed him a pinch of gray ash and directed him where to stand. He’d seen various Order members do this during his time at Grimmauld Place so he knew the basic routine even if he didn’t understand it. Tossing the ash into the flames, Ed grit his teeth as he stepped into the gently burning green flames. Working under the Colonel had given Ed a healthy respect for fire, and he never in his wildest dreams imagined he would purposely enter a grate full of them.

“The Leaky Cauldron!” Ed yelled before he could lose his nerve. Instantly Ed was hit by an overwhelming flood of magic as he was yanked back. Chaotic sights and smells bombarded him reminding Ed uncomfortably of being sucked through the gate before the flames spat him out. Ed stumbled out of the fireplace coughing up soot as he went.

The Leaky Cauldron seemed to Ed, what Madam Christmas’s bar would look like with a hundred years or so tacked on. The room was dark and grimy, like something Ed would expect to find on the bad side of town, but like the Madam’s bar, the building sang with life. People sat around drinking with friends or leaning across the bar to joke with the older man serving drinks, laughing as they went about their business. It was a weirdly foreign sight, and he struggled to remember the last time he had been somewhere without the threat of death hanging over his head. It was nice.

A puff of green alerted Ed to Molly’s arrival, and she waved Ed along after her as she brushed the ash off her red hair. The bar's patrons hardly spared the two a glance as they disappeared through a back door into an alley ended with a wall of brick. Before Molly even pulled out her wand to tap it, he could tell the wall was magic. Ed could feel the way the energy circulated through the wall and he knew it must be the entrance to the place they were searching for. As soon as Moll’s wand made contact with the surface of the wall, he felt a wave of power emanate outwards before the bricks began to shift and dance to reveal a passage. 

The sight before Ed was like nothing he had ever seen before. Rustic building dotted with bright color leaned into each other, lording over narrow streets filled with a sea of people as enthusiastic as the Gearheads of Rush Valley. And everywhere, magic. It was as packed full of it as Sirius had said, but while the witch’s magic had been trying to change him, this magic just seemed natural. It hummed in the air, chasing after children as they dashed down the streets to gawk at things in shop windows, while their parents watched. It clung to shops, and crates, and the very cobblestone he walked on, flowing in and out through masses.

“Edward, are you coming?”  He realized Mrs. Weasley had moved on ahead leaving him at the entrance.

“Right, sorry!” he called as he trotted after her, taking care not to trip on the uneven ground. She led them further up the street past all sorts of shops Ed was dying to have a look in, up to possibly the most imposing building on the street. Gringotts was lavish with marble pillars and gold, dressed in a coat of foreboding. As they made their way up the steps, Ed’s leg clicking as they went, he couldn’t help but think that not even Greed would want to steal from this place.

Ed’s eyes widened at the sight of the tellers as they entered the main room. Their ugly squat faces glared over the witches and wizards going about their business. Molly placed a hand on his shoulder and gently led him towards an open window. Goblins, Sirius had called them. Well, they certainly fit the part of the fairytale creature.

The goblin looked down his nose at them, his eyes narrowing as they landed on Ed. Molly shifted almost imperceptibly at his side, and Ed knew she had noticed too. “We need to withdraw some money from the Hogwarts vault,” Molly said, her smile only slightly forced as she slid a signed order from Dumbledore across the counter. The goblin accepted it silently, his gaze not leaving Ed as he slit the seal open. He glanced down and skimmed the slanted writing, before sliding the order into his coat.

“Excuse me for a moment.” The goblin slid off his stool and disappeared behind the counter, with one last glance at the teen. Molly had stiffened considerably throughout the exchange and Ed saw how her hand was posed for quick access to her wand. Ed himself spaced out his stance and bent his knees to lower his center of gravity as they waited for the goblin to return. 

After a moment their goblin reappeared, this time accompanied by another. The new goblin climbed up on the seat and placed a wooden box in front of them and fixed Ed with a cold look, and removed the boxes lid. Centered in the box was a small knife. The blade itself was unimposing, but the moment the lid was removed Ed felt cold inside. The goblin made a beckoning motion and Ed took a step forward, unsure of what it was that he was being asked to do. Quick as a snake, the goblin darted forward his thin fingers wrapping around his flesh wrist and yanked him forward. The teller was stronger than Ed would have guessed and he felt himself being knocked off balance. Molly gave a small cry, and in his periphery, Ed could see her hand close around her wand. The second Goblin snagged the knife, and in one swift movement swiped it across Ed’s hand.

Ed gave a small gasp as felt the familiar pain of skin splitting. The goblin released his wrist and Ed yanked it back tucking the wound into his chest. With a hiss, he lowered his hand expecting to see fresh blood spreading along his white glove. However, to his shock, he watched as the red stain retreated back into the cut and the skin stitched itself back together. Ed looked up wide eyed at the goblin who had attacked him. One of them had replaced the knife back in the box and closed it, and now they both looked at him with even expressions.

The first one opened his mouth and gave a little bow, his tone even and measured. “Welcome to Gringotts, Master Hohenheim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, here it is. For whatever reason, this chapter was really hard to write, so I hope you can forgive me some of the awkwardly written sentences I'm sure were accidentally left in.   
> until next week!


	13. Into the Vault

When a child first catches adults out -- when it first walks into his grave little head that adults do not always have divine intelligence, that their judgments are not always wise, their thinking true, their sentences just -- his world falls into panic desolation. The gods are fallen and all safety gone. And there is one sure thing about the fall of gods: they do not fall a little; they crash and shatter or sink deeply into green muck. It is a tedious job to build them up again; they never quite shine. And the child's world is never quite whole again. It is an aching kind of growing

― John Steinbeck,  **East of Eden**

**\---**

“What.” Ed’s voice sounded cold as he narrowed his eyes at the goblins. “What did you just call me?” he hissed.

The tellers looked unperturbed by his cold reaction, only beckoning them to follow. But Ed kept his feet planted as he felt a violent mixture of confusion and rage building inside him. _How did they know the bastards name? He couldn’t be here._ He fought the urge to throw off Molly’s hand as she took hold of his forearm, as he felt coldness cling to his body at the thought of his father here of all places.

“Edward, we need to follow them, we can figure out whatever's happened later, But if we don’t go now we miss our chance.” he knew she was telling the truth, the goblins had taken their letter if they didn’t follow the teller now, they wouldn’t let them into the vault. With a soft growl, he relented, pulling out of her grasp he shoved his gloved hands deep into his pockets, hunching his shoulders inward, defensively.

_If this means what I think it- If that bastard had-_ Ed grit his teeth in anger as the second goblin closed the door to the inner room behind Molly, leaving them in near darkness. The teller gestured for them to climb aboard a rickety looking cart that reminded Ed of the northern mines. He hadn’t trusted them then, and he didn’t trust them now, but Molly was giving him a small pleading look so he wearily climbed aboard. The goblin took the driver's seat with the sort of calm detachment Ed was coming to expect from his kind and pulled a lever.

Ed had never been more thankful for his automail’s steely grip as the cart lurched violently forward and proceeded at an ungodly speed along the rusting tracks. He could do nothing to stop his initial cry of fear as he stomach dropped, a cry that rapidly turned into a tirade of cursing, that would have had even his brothers armored body blushing.

The cart continued to spiral deeper and deeper, and at one point he began to feel a familiar tingle along his skin. Catching a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the metal of the cart, he could see his brunet head becoming lighter by the second. He glanced at Molly alarmed, even if internally he was rejoicing the freedom from the spell. She made eye contact with him and said something, but her words were lost in the roar of the cart.

Without a hair tie, his newly restored golden locks dashed across his face with vengeance. The split ends he had developed in the months since his life was calm enough for a haircut, stung as they whipped him across his nose and lips and eyes. Finally, the cart came to a stop and Ed staggered out feeling sick. The goblin announced they had reached the Hogwarts vault, seemingly uncaring about Ed’s change in appearance, and swiping his fingers along the imposing door in front of them, and the metal melted away. Ed’s eyes widened as he took in the sea of gold coins that filled the cavernous vault, far more than he could ever hope to make in a lifetime, even with his considerable pay as a State Alchemist.

It was was oddly warm inside, despite how far below ground Ed assumed them to be, and far too light inside for a number of torches that lined that wall. Ed had almost begun searching for some internal mechanism that could explain it before stopping himself. Because magic, _right_.

The goblin went around gathering gold for them, consulting the letter to determine how much they were allowed to take. Ed’s eyes wandered along the elaborate carvings and paintings that covered every stone surface of the vault. Below his feet were swirling patterns of yellow and black that converged around some creature Ed couldn’t quite make out under the piles of gold. To the left, engraved into the wall and then jutting out in parts to almost make them feel alive, was a mass of emerald and silver serpents twisting and wrapping around each other in a way that made it impossible to tell where a particular body began and ended. On his right was a golden solitary lion posed on a background of scarlet. The edges of his mane painted almost as if to resemble fire. Lastly dominating the ceiling of the vault, was a massive bronze eagle, captured mid flight backed by an inky blue night sky dotted with stars.

“Here Edward,” Molly placed the filled money bag in his hand. “That should be enough to you buy your things.”

“Thanks,” Ed said as he tucked the bag in the pocket of his long brown coat, sparing a last glance at the impressive mountains of wealth, and the four painted beasts as he followed Molly out. “Why bother painting it like that?” he wondered out loud. “It’s a vault, it’s not like people spend any time in there.”

As soon as they were out, the top of the doorway seemed to melt, metal flowing down like water until a solid door stood where seconds ago had been only air. “They aren't for you Master Hohenheim.” Ed glanced over at the goblin as it climbed back onto his seat in the cart, the name causing him to grit his teeth to prevent a tirade from slipping out. “They’re for the thieves.”

“The thieves?” 

“There's no way out of a Gringotts vault without a Gringotts goblin. A lot of the old families paint their sigils on the walls of their vaults, so any thieves that made it in would spend the rest of their lives being stared down by those they wished to wrong.”

“Hell of a way to go,” Ed mumbled.

“Poetic justice was very in style in 1474.”

Anything else Ed might have wanted to say was cut off as the cart shot backward up an incline they had just come down. With a groan, Ed resigned himself to doing the whole mad ride backward and was therefore unprepared when the cart came to a sudden stop. Ed’s head knocked back harshly against the metal bar behind his head. Biting out a curse, he rubbed his quickly forming goose egg. With a shriek that made Ed feel like his ears were bleeding, the tracks began to rotate. They had driven onto a turntable Ed realized, years of crossing the country on train had familiarized Ed with the sight.

With a loud click and a shutter, the cart began moving again. Slowly at first but rapidly gaining speed as they went further and further from where Ed was sure they had entered the underground. A quick glance over at Molly told Ed she was just as surprised as him by their detour. The further they went away from the main track the darker and darker it got, and Ed was sure that if there was enough light, he would have been able to see his own breath. Then, far in the distance, Ed could just barely make out a flicker.

It was faint at first but growing stronger by the second, Ed could tell it was flame now. However, it lacked the normal orange glow of fire or even the green when Floo powder was added. instead, it glowed with an electric blue so bright, that when the cart rushed past it, it made Ed’s eyes water. Another appeared a few yards down, and then another and another. They must have passed twenty of the blue torches before Ed felt the cart began to slow, and instead of the blue Ed had grown to expect, he could see the patch of wall they were approaching held a golden torch instead.

As the cart came to a stop, Ed looked around the dark expanse on his other side. He found himself rather unpleasantly reminded yet again of being eaten by gluttony, as the black seemed to have no end in any direction but where the torches hung. The goblin reached out from the cart and unhooked the golden light off the wall, drawing it into the cart. “Master Hohenheim, if you would hold this please.”

“It’s Elric,” he said coldly as his automail hand closed around the thick base of the torch. The goblin hummed, seemingly indifferent to Ed’s correction, as it reached into his pocket drawing out the knife box.

“You might want to hold that away from your face Sir, these things tend to throw up a few sparks.” Ed complied, and turned his head so that he could shield his eyes. The goblin slid the box open and drew out the knife carefully and held it over the torch, it’s blade gleamed with small scarlet beads of Edward's blood. Angling the knife downwards, the blood slowly crept down the blade, dripping into the golden flame.

It was like someone set off a sparkler with each drop that made contact, golden flecks leaped off the torch and showered down on the occupants of the cart. Molly gave a quite yelp of surprise at the violent reaction and brought her jacket up to protect her face. The goblin, seemingly have decided enough of Ed’s blood had been added, tucked the knife away and took the flame back from him. Rather than rehook the torch like Ed thought he would, in between one blink and the next the teller stabbed it flame first into the blank wall beside them. A loud clang rang out, echoing across the cavern before they were plunged into darkness.

Ed’s breath caught as every source of light vanished, and with the light went the heat. Icey cold spread down his metal limbs and into his core faster than he thought possible, and then he heard it. A faint grinding noise growing louder and louder by the second, the magic around him stirred sluggishly as if it hadn’t moved in hundreds of years. Then in a blinding flash, the light returned, and where there had been only stone stood a massive door.

_“The Vault of the House of Hohenheim”_ Ed read to himself. His mouth felt funny saying the ancient words, like his tongue, couldn’t quite remember their shape. He supposed it made sense, it had been nearly twelve years since he had looked at the language before him with anything but contempt. But, back then he had been good at it, almost fluent. It was one of the few times Ed could remember the bastard smiling at him.

They had been at the park, all four of them. His mom had been pushing Al on the swings, while he had sat off to the side with him. Hohenheim had held the book open for him while Ed rattled off what it had said, he had always preferred the way the letters in his dad’s book looked and sounded compared to the ones Granny read them. Some lady had laughed a little, bent over a ruffled his hair and called little man like his mom did, but her voice had been patronizing. She had told Hohenheim how cute it was that he was trying to read, and he had given her a tight smile and agreed.

Ed could remember asking him what the lady had meant by ‘trying to read’, because he was definitely doing it just like he had shown him, and the lady must have been stupid because he was sure he was doing it right. Hohenheim had smiled at him then, a real genuine smile, and told him that ‘of course he was doing it right,’ because Ed was ‘the smartest person he knew’ but he told Ed that the people in Resembool didn’t know the words he had taught him and that they wouldn’t understand what he was talking about if he spoke them around them. So from then on, Ed had only spoken the words inside the house with Hohenheim, or when he read to Al, and when the bastard left, he didn’t speak them at all.

His books had burned with the house, and Ed had willed himself to forget those days. Besides, Hoenheim had seriously understated how few people knew, what Ed knew by then to be a separate language. Never once had Ed come across another speaker, and he was sure he would never see that swirling writing ever again. But here it was, staring him in the face, nearly four years after Ed had burned it.

“What did you say, Ed?” Molly’s voice pulled him out of his head, and he turned to face her.

“It’s nothing important, I was just thinking.”

Ed pushed himself over the edge of the cart, landing on the newly formed ledge in front of the door. Magic danced around him the moment his boots made contact with the ground, closing his eyes it almost felt like he could hear voices among the flow. If this is really Hohenheim's vault then he wouldn’t have locked it with magic, whatever else he may be, he’s still an Alchemist. Ed knew what to do next.

He clapped his hands and slammed them into the door. Alchemy met magic in a predetermined manner and Ed knew he had been right. WIth a creaking groan, the doors swung inward to reveal blackness, just as unending as the caverns.

“What’s inside this vault is for your eyes only Sir, we will wait out here for you.” Ed didn't bother to respond, he already knew. Somehow, he already knew that the vault was meant for him alone.

Ed walked inside his pace never wavering, even as he felt the doors shut behind him. Cool air blew through the black, far too fresh for the depths of Gringotts. Ed closed his eyes as the stream of air increased, for a moment Ed almost felt as if he would be swept away, then it died down into a gentle breeze and he opened his eyes.

He stared in wonder at the world that had appeared around him. He stood in a center of a great library with stacks so high they seemed to reach the sky. Beneath his feet were thick hand woven rugs adorned with patterns and symbols straight out of a history textbook. The sweet breeze that ruffled his loose hair flowed from an opened window just to his left, and as Ed approached it he could hear the screams of playing children. Placing his hands on the ledge he leaned out feeling the clean air kiss his skin, and for a minute he just stood there, eyes closed breathing in freedom.

At last, Ed opened his eyes as he began to wonder where it was he found himself. He scanned over the seas of sand colored buildings that stretched as far as he could see. Deep in his mind, something nudged him, telling him he had been here before. But Ed knew that couldn’t have, in all his time in this world he had never left London, the place he found himself in now was desert.

**_“Hohenheim? Is that you?”_ **

Ed whirled around at the sound of the sudden words but could find no one in the room with him. _“Who’s there!”_ Ed’s voice caught on the last syllable. He reached up to touch his throat where the foreign tongue had escaped.

**_“You are not Von Hohenheim, how did you get in here?”_ ** The voice didn’t sound angry, just intrigued, as if Ed was an unexpected outcome to an experiment.

_“Where are you? You have me at something of a…”_ he paused for a moment to remember how to say the word. _“Disadvantage.”_

**_“Look to your right Not-Hohenheim. I’m above the writing desk.”_ **

_The writing desk? What does he mean- oh._ There on the wall hanging above the solid dark wood desk was a painting. It was an odd painting, and it’s contents seemed a strange addition to the room. Set on a simple gray background, was a round-bottom flask containing a cloud of a strange black gas.

_“Who are you?_ ” Ed asked in confusion, as the thick gas swirled before his eyes.

**_“I have had many names over the years stranger,”_ ** Ed watched as segments of the gas broke off to form thin arms. A mouth appeared then and a single closed eye. **_“They call me Little One, Dwarf in the Flask, even some would name me Homunculus.”_ ** The eye blinked open, revealing an eerily familiar violet iris. **_“And who, pray tell are you?”_ **

\---

Travers cowered on the floor of the Old Black Manor, bleeding profusely from a wound in his stomach but he didn’t dare look up. He could hear faint whimpers from the witch next to him, her arm had blown clean off and she didn’t have much longer. Somewhere behind him, he could hear the sounds of a fellow Death Eater choking to death on his own blood. Wet and awful sounding as it was, nothing in the room scared him move then the faint sounds of the Dark Lord's footsteps as he grew nearer.

“I must say, my friends, I am very disappointed,” Voldemort's voice echoed off the stone walls of the hall giving it an otherworldly quality. “You promised me a weapon, a Golden Being from beyond our world. One with such power and strength, it was more beast than man. So I allow you, allow you to tamper with ancient magic, the origins of which we know not because you assured me you could get me that weapon.” He paused, only a few paces away from where Travers lay. “Yet here we are.”

The man behind him has stopped drawing breath.

“At first I hear strange things from you, reports that not a demon has been summoned, but a werewolf boy. But then I hear, the boy has powers. Strange, strong powers that were able to rip apart your defenses, and I am intrigued. But when I get here, after I have been working so very diligently to put our plans in motion, what do I find? Not demon. No, I find a manor in disarray and a group of followers incapable of containing one boy.” Travers practically held his breath as the Dark Lord came to a stop in front of him. “Not only do I hear that you’ve let my prize escape, no, not just that. I hear, that you’ve let him escape with the Order.” the last word was practically hissed, and Travers feels himself flinch.

“But I was a forgiving Lord, I did not punish you too severely for your failure, I gave you time to find the boy, to bring him to me. You say, ‘He’s in Glasgow’ and you rush off in a hurry, only to return with your tails between your legs trying to appease me with the heads of lesser people. I give you one more week, and you have brought me nothing, not even a whisper. And that, that my friends, is unacceptable.” The Dark Lord began to move again, only to stop a few steps away. “Ah, This one won’t last much longer, you can go ahead and eat her Nagini.”

Travers closed his eyes as the one armed witch gave a weak scream, and he tried to block the sounds of her struggling against the stone floor as she tried to save herself from the jaws of the beast. Her shrieking echoed across the hall, and he can hear the exact moment the snake grabbed her. It went on for almost ten minutes, moaning and crying until all he can hear is a faint gurgling noise, and then nothing.

He thinks her name was Claremont.

“I have no use for servants who can not follow orders or get me results. Find him, or I will kill you all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of you who have reviewed and left kudos on this work! I never thought this story would get this popular.  
> Until next week!


	14. The Wandmaker

_ “Homunculus?”  _ Ed spat the word out taking a step back from the grinning painting.  _ “You are a painting, nothing more.” _

**_“True.”_ ** _ the painting almost sighed.  _ **_“In this form, I am little more than a ghost of my true self, as I am remembered by the owner of this vault. I imagine I lost quite a bit of my ambitious and personality in the translation,”_ ** _ The Homunculus said.  _ **_"But I wouldn’t know myself.”_ **

_ “Hohenheim made you?”  _ Ed couldn’t comprehend the reason he would purposely create more Homunculus. 

**_“He did indeed, along with the rest of this sentimental daydream around us.”_ **

_ “What do you mean?” _

**_“Our great proud city of Xerxes, in all its shining glory!”_ ** _ The Homunculus paused, _ **_“Of course, none of it’s real. Nothing you see out that window exists beyond this room, but it’s a nice fantasy.”_ ** _ The Homunculus moved closer to the glass of his flask. _ **_“I’ve said my piece, now who are you?”_ **

_ “Edward Elric.” _ he answered honestly, trying to draw a reaction from the creature. 

**_“Now that’s an unusual name for a Xerxian, and having two names must make you Noble then. How is it a little lord like yourself has found your way to my lonely flask?”_ **

_ “Lord?” Had he mistranslated? _ Ed searched his head for any word he could have mixed up, and could find none.  _ “I’m not a Lord.” _

**_“No? How odd. My, you are a peculiar one aren’t you.”_ ** The creature shifted _.  _ **_“So how is it you came here Edward Elric? I was under the impression the vault could only be opened by Hohenheim's blood alone.”_ **

_ Well, that certainly explained the knife. “He’s my Father,”  _ Ed said with his best attempt at cold detachment, though by the way, the creature seemed to light up, it seemed he had failed.

**_“My my! That’s quite the surprise! I would never have expected that from him.”_ **

_ “What do you mean?” _

**_“Well it was one thing when he was young and ambitious, but after the fall of Xerxes… well, such finite things as families lost their allure.”_ **

_ “What? What do you mean after the fall of Xerxes? I don’t understand what you’re saying.” _

The Homunculus did what Ed assumed the equivalent of cocking his head to the side, and fixed him with a curious gaze. **_“You really don’t know, do you? What he is, where he’s from? He really didn’t tell you.”_ **

_ “Tell me what?”  _ Ed asked coldly, his eyes fixed firmly on the Homunculus.

**_“Are you sure you really want to know? Sometimes people keep secrets for a reason.”_ **

_ “Hohenheim lost any right to decide what I get to know the moment he abandoned my family.” _

The Dwarf nodded in acquiescence.  **_“I’ll admit I can’t remember it happening. The magic required to bring a painting sentience, like what has been done to me isn’t simple. It never perfectly recreates the person or being in my case, there are always gaps. What I know of this comes from Hohenheim.”_ ** Ed nodded, that lined up with the explanation Sirius had given him when he’d breached the subject of the paintings in Grimmauld Place.

**_“Hohenheim isn't human, not anymore."_** The Dwarf said. _"_ ** _He's a living Philosophers stone.”_**

Ed shook his head. _ “No, no that's not possible. Homunculus can't have children.” _

**_“I didn't say he was a Homunculus, did I? There's a difference, it's slight but significant.”_ **

_ “I don't- that doesn't-”  _ Ed growled a little as he struggled to put his scattered thoughts into words. _ “He can't be.” _

**_“Please. Look around you, look where we are. This place is just as I said, a product of sentimentality. We stand in a living memory of the fallen city of Xerxes, a city that disappeared in a single night.”_** He paused for a moment as he saw the gears beginning to turn in Edward's mind. **_“Your father, Hohenheim, who created this place, from his own memory, just by coincidence happens to know the language? A dead language, that if this conversation we are having is anything to go on, he passed to his son?”_**

_ “But, if that were true- he would, he would have to be hundreds of years old.”  _

**_“He would, wouldn't he.”_ **

Ed's stomach turned as a horrible thought rose to the forefront of his mind.  _ “He didn't- he didn't kill them all did he?” _

This time the response wasn’t as immediate and sounded far more hesitant.  **_“No… I don't think he did.”_ ** The two sat in a wary silence for a moment, Ed could tell there was more than the Dwarf was saying, but something told him now wasn’t the time to push it.

_ “You said there was a difference, between Homunculus and… whatever he is.” _

**_“Homunculus are artificial creations. As I am, all Homunculus are beings. Existing just on the edge of being human, yet not quite the same. Your father is something else entirely, He's a human with the near infinite power of a Philosopher's stone running through his veins. Giving him a power to the point that he too, can not quite be called human.”_ **

_ “I’m I-”  _ Ed snapped with mouth shut, cutting off his words. _ “Nevermind.”  _

Ed thought of the last time he’d seen Hohenheim, sitting in Granny’s kitchen talking coldly about what they’d done. Ed thought of them reading, the pride in his eyes during the early days before he started retreating to his study and not coming out. He thought of his back retreating through the open door, and Ed couldn’t quite understand. Theories and Alchemy were easy, they had rules and laws and set outcomes, and they made sense. Hohenheim didn’t.

_ “How?” _

**_“How what?”_ **

_ “I know you said you can’t remember it, but how did he say he ended up this way? If he’s truly from Xerxes how did he get here? And how did he get back?”  _ Ed ran his fingers through his hair wildly as he tried to comprehend the magnitude of what the painting had been telling him.

**_“He trusted someone.” The painting said cutting through Ed’s wild thoughts. “In response to your first question that is. He said he trusted someone, that they were working on something together, working on Immortality. Not for them, but for the king. He said his partner, whoever they were, lied. They wanted Immortality for their self.”_ **

_ “So how did Hohenheim end up with it then?” _

**_“His partner gave it to him.”_ **

_ “What?”  _ said in confusion.

**_“Hohenheim seemed to think his partner thought it was a gift. He was a slave, your father. Hohenheim wasn’t any name given to him by a parent, apparently, I named him that of all people. My point is everything he had he worked for. I’m sure, and your father agreed, his partner thought he was giving him the ultimate reward for his work.”_ **

_ “And the partner?”  _ Ed was almost hesitant to ask.

**_“Took the other half of the souls and vanished.”_ **

Ed sighed, as his theory was all but confirmed. Father then, he had to have been Hohenheim's partner. No wonder he could do the things he’d done. The creation of the seven homunculi shouldn’t have been possible but If he’d had since the fall of Xerxes to be creating new stones, of course, he’d as strong as he was. Ed locked eyes with the Homunculus, things beginning to click together. It still didn’t explain why Father and Hohenheim looked so alike. He supposed it was possible they could have been brothers, his stomach turned at the thought. Was it really so hard to suggest? He and Al had crossed one of the hardest lines in the book by each other's side. 

He needed to get home, to get back to Al and warn him, to tell him what he had learned.

_ “Okay then, my second question. How do I get home?” _

**_“I don’t know.”_** The words were said with ease, and Ed’s world froze.

_ “What do you mean you don’t know?” _

**_I mean, I know how he got home, both times he ended up here-”_ **

_ “What do you mean both-” _

**_“But his way of making it back to Amestris won’t work. Not for how you currently are.”_ **

_ “I don’t understand.” _

**_“There is an array, of course, not even a particularly hard one. But the price of opening the gate from this side and pushing you back through would cost more than a hundred of your little lives. Hohenheim had the Philosopher's stone on his side. What are a hundred lives to a man whose blood contains over 500,000?”_ **

_ “You're telling me, I would have to murder 100 people to get home?” _

The Dwarf spun in his flask. **_“It’s up to you Mr. Elric. Are 100 lives worth whatever it is you’re trying to get back to?”_**

_ \--- _

Molly was beginning to get anxious, Edward had been in the vault for a long time now. The goblin had assured her he would be able to get out on his own, that in fact, he was the only one he knew of that could operate that doors other than the vaults owner, yet she still felt like it had been a terrible decision to let him enter the room alone. Edward had been acting off ever since the goblins had called him "Master Hohenheim" back at the teller's booths. He seemed more guarded and snappish than she had seen him in a long while. Molly hadn’t recognized the name, but Edward certainly had, and something about it had put the teenager on edge.

She supposed it could be his real name, everything about The Orders protection of him had been heavily hushed up, but Edward's reaction had been more anger than fear like it would have been if he thought he'd been exposed. The goblins had taken blood for the lock though, so that could mean family ties.

Molly was still puzzling over the mystery that was Edward Elric when the doors of the vault ground open again. Ed looked exhausted, now that Gringotts Anti-theft magic had washed away Minerva’s disguise, and she could see how painfully pale he had become. His transformation reminded her of Sirius, the man had looked positively ghastly after he had escaped captivity, but had grown healthier with some solid meals in him, only to begin to deteriorate again after ages inside Grimmauld Place with little company. It had been Sirius’s increasing restlessness, plus the location of the Death Eater activities that had motivated Dumbledore to finally let the man leave the house. Of course, it was on that mission that Sirius and Remus had found Edward, which had served as a nice distraction for Sirius as he was confined to the house.

“Edward? Are you alright?” she asked as he climbed aboard the cart. The vault door had already begun to disappear back into the stone wall.

“Fine.” she frowned at his clipped response.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was inside?”

He shrugged. “Books mostly.”

“None that you wanted to take with you?” he shrugged again in response. It seemed to her, she wasn’t likely to get a straight answer out of him for a while now.

The cart ride back to Gringotts's main building was done in silence. Molly worried over Ed, while Ed worried about how he would circumvent the price of the transmutation. When they reached the top Molly pulled out her wand to apply the transmutation again, but Ed stopped her. All the magic surrounding him was giving him a pounding headache, and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to stay on his feet if she cast a spell directly on him.

“Molly, there are hundreds of people out there, and roughly thirty in the entire world that know what I look like, and most of those people are trying to protect me. I think I can survive a stroll down the street.”

“Edward, it’s not safe.” she chided.

“Please,” He said, allowing some desperation into his voice that he knew wasn’t all faked. “I need to feel the sun on my own skin. I promise I’ll do exactly what you say, but just let me be me for now.”

She hesitated as she looked him over, she frowned. “Okay. But, You listen to everything I have to say.” Ed’s face broke into a grin at as he shook his head in agreement, thrilled to be allowed out like a normal person.

As they left the bank, Ed felt freer than he had in months. The colors of Diagon Alley seem even more vibrant as he left the confines of the Gringotts underground. Ed longed to dive into every bookstore he saw, his need for new reading material was only outweighed by his need to keep his word to behave. Molly pulled him into a shop called Madam Malkin’s and introduced him to the small witch that owned the place as a cousin of the Weasleys, and the way the witch accepted this as fact without hesitation, led Ed to believe there must be a lot of those.

She pulled Ed into the back room and made him remove his jacket and shoes as she began to measure him. Ed could only think of how lucky it was that he had thought to wear a high collared shirt that day, keeping his automail concealed, as the elderly Witch prattled on as she moved around him.

“You’ll be wanting a set of school robes for him, Molly? Gryffindor like the rest I presume?”

Molly only froze for a second before replying with an easy smile. “No not this time. He’s recently gone through a bit of a growth spurt and is in need of clothes for more day to day wear. Luckily, he's built similarly to Bill so we’ve been able to use his old robes for the upcoming year.” Ed felt a wave of pride despite the fictional nature of his growth spurt. He had felt very thankful indeed, that other than the Weasley twins, the inhabitants of Grimmauld place seemed to have learned their lesson about mentioning his height, or lack of it.

Madam Malkin pulled him back into the back room again and had him pick fabrics and colors. Ed felt mildly overwhelmed by all the choices, similarly to how he got when Winry tried to talk automail with him, that by the end, he was just saying yes to any cloth remotely resembling something he would wear. He paid for five pairs of pants, seven shirts, a vest at Madam Malkin's insistence, and to his chagrin a pair of wizarding robes at Molly's. before being shooed out of the shop and told to come back later to pick up the finished products.

The crowds had mellowed out some while they were in the shop, likely in response to the gathering clouds of gray above their heads. Molly frowned as she looked at the large clock on the side of a building further up the street.

“We have some time before we’ll need to come back if you want we can go get a meal at the Leaky Cauldron?” she paused, “I would have to disguise your appearance though, people would remember us there.”

“I’m not really hungry,” Ed said with a shrug. He was, but he hardly wanted to waste his time outside on something like that. Not when there were bookstores to raid.

“Well then,” she paused and fixed him with a peculiar look. “I suppose there is only one thing we could do while we waited.”

“What’s that?”

“We could buy you a wand.” Ed froze. “I assume you lost yours during all the business with the Death Eaters?”

“I-” Ed’s voice came out sorta crooked, _I’m not a wizard, I can’t use a wand!_ “We don’t need to do that Mrs. Weasley, I’ve been managing just fine on my own.”

“Nonsense. You must be nearly of age by now, you’ll certainly want a wand then. And besides, It’s hardly safe for you to be without some form of protection.”

“Really-”

“Come along Edward, Ollivanders is just down the way.” Ed grit his teeth as he followed, desperately trying to think of some lie he could tell her to explain his lack of magical skill.

The wand shop seemed to sag in on itself, and Ed was fairly certain the windows hadn’t been cleaned since the shop's inception. The walls gave off an air of exhaustion, which contrasted the sheer about of magic that seemed to dance around the building. As they entered, the bell above the door gave a dull ring that echoed throughout the main room. Ed thought the shop felt almost library like in it’s quiet, he almost didn’t dare to break the silence.

A loud crash came from somewhere in the back breaking the illusion, and Edward felt the magic in the air stir. He could hear faint mumbling as a figure grew closer. Molly smiled at him as he approached, even if Ed privately thought he looked a bit of a nutter. The old man's thin white hair stood out at odd angles like he had gotten too close to an explosion, and he hobbled along bow-legged.

“Holly, twelve inches, unicorn hair.” he croaked out as he approached much to Ed’s confusion.

“And I’ve taken good care of it since I bought it here on my eleventh birthday,” Molly replied from just behind his shoulder with a smile.

The old wand maker leaned in close to Ed, squinting at him. “He one of yours?”

Molly laughed lightly, “no, no just looking after him for Dumbledore.”

“You break your wand boy?”

Ed blinked, at a loss for words. “Uh, yes Sir I did.” he managed to get out. The old man shook his head and muttered something about how irresponsible children were, that made Ed’s skin prickle with indignity. Like I would really be so careless with something as powerful as a wand.

“Second matches are always difficult, the loyalty of magic isn’t always easily swayed. You should go run your errands, Molly, I have a feeling I’ll be keeping this one for a while.”

Molly sent a glance Ed’s way, asking if he was alright with her leaving. He nodded, it gave him more time to concoct a lie about his magical skills if she wasn’t there to witness the initial disaster finding a wand would be. Molly gathered her stuff and made her way out of the shop leaving Ed alone with Ollivander.

Ed straightened as the man reached out and grabbed hold of his jaw with his long bony fingers, pulling him close. “Half-blood, old blood.” the wandmaker muttered. “Nerve, ambition, and a good brain.” Ed stumbled back as his jaw was released. Still muttering to himself the old man climbed the rolling ladder and pulled boxes off the wall seemingly at random. Some seemed fresh, while others were steeped in dust and seemed to be barely holding themselves together.

“Here.” the man shoved a box into Ed’s hands absentmindedly, hardly turning to look at him. Ed felt silly as he pulled the dark wooden wand out of the box and gave it a small flick like he had seen the others do, and as predicted, nothing. Ed didn’t even have a chance to check for Ollivander’s reaction before he found another wand in his hands.

One after another, every wand the old man brought him failed, the man's boredom had gradually morphed into a manic glee as he handed Ed more and more to try. Ed gave the silver tipped stick the wand maker had given him a bored wave to no effect. Ollivander narrowed his eyes at him again, and Ed was half afraid he was going to grab him again.

“You’ve never had a wand before have you?” Ed froze. “It’s no matter to me, but I was expecting to use the reactions to you had to the wands I gave you to figure out what you needed. But if you’ve never had one... “ He hopped down from where he was perched on the ladder and marched towards Ed. “Which of your hands is dominant.”

“Left,” Ed answered after a moment. It wasn’t, but he was nearly as strong with his left as he had been with his right before he had lost it. Ollivander hummed and with a wave of his wand a tape measure jumped from his desk in the air and began measuring the distance between his fingers.

“Do you have any medical issues, any magical blood?”

“Not that I know of.”

“And your eyes?” the man said coyly.

_Why does everyone have an issue with my eyes?_ “From my father's side of the family.” It felt weird talking about Hohenheim after the morning's revelations.

“Purely hereditary?” he sounded surprised.

“Yep.” 

“And what's the story with the arm?” Ed’s eyes widened as he looked down and saw the tape measure was measuring the width of his metal wrist, his sleeve magically pulled up. Ed shoved the shirt sleeve down and bat off the floating tape measure.

“I’m no expert, but I feel like that constitutes as a medical condition.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this weeks chapter! Sorry, this single day is taking like three weeks to get through. School is starting to pick back up again so in order for me to get a chapter out every week they might end up being a little shorter.


	15. Floo

The old man gave a quiet chuckle. “I’m not going to fight you boy. I seriously doubt I could win, dueling was never a talent of mine. I didn’t mean it as a threat, I only wondered for purely academic reasons.” despite himself, Ed felt his body relaxing.

“It’s not important.” 

“I would have to disagree,” Ollivander said. “You don’t need to tell me the story, just the specifics of the prosthesis.” Ed glanced warily down at his arm, wondering if he could risk it. “Most Wizards don’t use prosthetics,” Ollivanders back was turned to him now, the old man was attempting to straighten up some of the chaos that had overtaken the room. “Unless the injury is caused by dark magic, there’s usually no need, as I’m sure you well know. Because of this, us wizards haven't invested much time in creating a model more advanced than a peg-leg, so while I’ll admit I do have something of a personal interest in how you got such a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, I’ll refrain from asking any questions outside what is need to conduct our business here today.” Ollivander’s voice hadn’t changed from its plodding even tone, even as Ed stood behind him radiating hostility.

“You can’t tell Molly.” Ed snapped his mouth shut, the words had come out before the teen had even fully decided to say them.

The old man nodded. “There is no need for me to tell Molly. It is your story to tell and yours alone.”

“It goes back, and is bolted in at the shoulder.”

“May I?” he said gesturing to Ed’s automail. Ed nodded and stuck his arm out to inspect. “Hmmm, this might explain why you haven't been able to get a spark yet.”

“What do you mean?” Ed asked in spite of himself.

“It’s easier if you think of a wand as a partner, as something semi-sentient.” he paused as he took a look at Ed’s elbow joint. “I always say, ‘the wand chooses the wizard’ because it really does. Magic seeks out congruent magic, but this arm of yours is likely restricting your natural flow, making it hard for us to find you a match.”

It made sense in a way, Alchemy wasn’t affected because that power was external, magic in the way it had been explained to him, was internal. Of course, Ed wasn’t a wizard so while it didn’t apply to him, it started to give him the basis of an excuse to Molly.

“So I can’t match with a wand?”

Ollivander shook his head. “No, not necessarily. You just need something a little stronger by nature to bridge the gap.”

“What do you mean?”

“Here we work with Unicorn Hair, Phoenix Feather, and Dragon Heartstring. Other wandmakers elsewhere delve into more… temperamental cores. I have one in the back that I think might work. An American who works out of Arizona sent me one with the core from that region. I would normally never bring it out for someone looking for their first wand, it’s far too aggressive for a beginner. However, in your case, I think it might just be the solution to our problem.”

The old man hobbled back into the stacks of the shop, leaving Ed watching his retreating back. It was an interesting theory, to give a wand with a more individual power to someone who has less of an innate gift. Under normal circumstances, Ed would have loved to see the results. But these were far from normal circumstances. 

“Here,” Ollivander came back around the counter, carrying a pale blue box. Even from where Ed stood, he could feel the magic in the wand pulsing like a heartbeat.

“What-?”

“Ash, 12 inches, unyielding, with a _Thunderbird_ tail feather.”

“Thunderbird?”

“Cousin of the Phoenix, a powerful magical beast capable of creating a storm with the flap of its wings. They’re a protected species these days, so you would be hard-pressed to find a wandmaker that has the proper permits to make Thunderbird wands.”

Ed felt his hand reaching out to take it despite himself. Magic was energy in a state of controlled chaos, but this wand, this wand sang.

The wands wood was ghostly pale, and its handle was engraved with overlapping circles like ripples on the surface of a pond. It felt like the universe drew a breath as his automail hand closed around the elegantly carved wand. Edward felt a spark of cold fire dance down his arm and into his core, spreading out in every direction until the fire filled him completely.

In the back of his mind, he heard Ollivander give a little cheer of delight, but Ed was to overwhelmed by the feeling of power that had filled him. Slowly the ringing in his ears left and for the first time since he arrived in this world, he felt balanced. 

Magic.

And for the first time, Ed let himself believe it was real.

\---

Ed left the shop by Molly’s side, his new wand held loosely in his grasp, his bag of new clothes that she had fetched in the other. However it had happened, he had magic now, and suddenly the impossibly large chasm between him and Al had grown much smaller. Edward wasn't fool enough to believe that his problems had vanished with this wand, but he couldn’t help the childish wonder that filled him at the thought of what he now possessed.

“Thank you, Molly,” Ed said with genuine gratitude. With this one trip, he could again see the light at the end of the tunnel.

They slid quietly through the back of the leaky cauldron. As they neared the fireplace someone called Molly’s name from across the dingy pub. She frowned as she looked to see who it was, and motioned for Ed to go along ahead of her. Pulling his makeshift hood lower on his face, he dipped in and out of the thrall of people moving about.

There was a line of people at the fireplace, and Ed lingered on the edge of the group. A cold feeling sent a shiver down his spine, and Ed could feel a pair of eyes watching him. He waited to see if the figure would approach. If they were hostile, they hadn’t engaged immediately which could mean one of two things, they weren't sure it was him, or they didn’t want witnesses. Ed moved closer to the front of the line and he could still feel the weight of the gaze on him. He wanted to look round for Molly but that would involve showing his face, and if that was all his pursuer was waiting for…Well, Ed didn’t want to think about the mass destruction a capable Wizard could cause in a place so full of people.

He stuck his hand in the bowl of floo powder keeping his head down as long as possible. Tossing his handful in the fire he got the distinct impressing the gaze was moving closer. As he stepped into the flames he was forced to raise his chin to avoid taking in a mouthful of ash. 

And for a second Ed’s eyes locked with those of a stranger on the edge of the crowd. Golden meeting an almost Black, before the Flames whisked him away.

\---

Ed sat on the edge of his bed rolling his wand in his hands. The others were locked in the kitchen in some urgent Order meeting. The magic he had felt radiating off the pale stick back in Ollivanders had faded some, though Ed thought that it might have just been the wand “syncing up with his magic” like the wandmaker had told his powerful wands were prone to do after a few hours. He felt weird possessing it, on one hand, the idea of magic screamed at him, presenting itself as a way out. On the other though, something deep inside him resisted its allure, warning him of laws and prices and consequences. 

_“Nothing good ever comes for free, our struggles give life meaning.”_ Teacher’s words echoed in his chest. She would knock him upside the head if she could see his now. Knock him upside the head, and then promptly snap his wand in two, unnatural thing that it was.

Ed felt the knock coming before it happened, the pulse of energy alerting him to the presence of an incoming wizard. “Come in,” he said, setting his wand on the bedside table as if removing it from his hands would remove his own conflicted feelings. 

Remus stepped into the room. Ed knew it would be him, the graying man’s presence was strangely different than the others for some reason. He gave Ed a tired smile as he crossed the room towards him, and he had to fight the urge to draw up a chair for the man as he looked about ready to topple over. 

“How are you doing Edward?” Remus asked. Ed like him, he was quiet and level-headed and overall a good man, but he was also awful at small talk. Remus was here for more than just a friendly chat.

“Not bad, It was nice to get out a stretch my legs a bit.”

He smiled a little, but he still looked preoccupied. “I imagine it was. I know Sirius really would’ve liked to join you “

“Yeah I was wondering about that,” Ed said with a frown. “Why doesn’t Sirius leave on occasion?”

Remus sighed a little and leaned back against the wall. “Risk mostly, Sirius is a wanted man. You only have a select group of people who know what you look like. But Sirius? Even the Muggles know about him. Polyjuice potion can be a tad unreliable at times, and spells meant to detect its presence are becoming more and more common these days. Transfiguration, like we used with you, gets riskier the older you are, and the side effects can be nasty.” he paused. “But really, it comes down to the fact that he’s reckless.”

Ed glanced up in surprise, startled that Remus would say that so openly about his friend. 

“He’s been like that since we were kids. Back when it was him, me, James, that’s Harry’s father, and… Peter.” A fell silent for a moment. “It was always Sirius who came up with the craziest schemes. His whole family was in Slytherin, and proud of it too, and I think he spent every waking moment trying to show them that he wasn’t. Reckless, Stupid, impulsive Sirius. But after Azkaban, his recklessness was more manic. When he got out, he immediately jumped headlong into the fight, and if things hadn’t turned out just so, he would have suffered a fate worse than death.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because” he sighed scrubbing a hand over his face. “Because I don’t want to see you make the same mistake.” Ed blinked in surprise. Where had that come from? "I know that you've been hurt in this fight, a fight that isn't even yours. I just don't want to see you pay for your involvement with your life."

“I don’t see how I’d even get the chance cooped up in here,” he said with a nervous laugh.

“You won’t be.”

“What?”

“They’re moving you, that was one of the things discussed at the meeting. The Death Eaters have been looking for you, and from what we’ve seen they seem pretty desperate to get ahold of you again.” Ed felt cold down his spine. “After your trip to Diagon Alley, Moody tells us there was almost three times the number of Death Eaters spotted in the area.” _Golden eyes locking with almost black…_ “We don’t know if they’re connected exactly, but Dumbledore’s decided to move you just to be safe.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow.” Ed felt his chest tighten and he flinched.

“Okay.”

The two sat in an uncomfortable silence, Remus only breaking it with a quiet murmur. “I’ll leave you to gather your things.” Ed nodded and the man made his way to the door. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry Edward.”

“Nothing to apologize for.” Remus hesitated at the door for only a second longer before departing, leaving Ed alone with his thoughts. Really there wasn’t anything for Remus to apologize about, but Ed still knew what he meant. _‘Sorry for taking away the only safe place you've had since you got to the world.’_

\---

Sirius was decidedly subdued at breakfast that morning, pushing around his eggs aimlessly despite the fact that he’d burned none of the food today. A fact that most mornings would lead the twins and Ed in joyously celebrating. Ed knew the kids must have found a way to eavesdrop at the meeting last night, as they all seemed to know what was going on. It was an awkward kind of silence, the kind that results when someone you don’t really know leaves, but you’ve grown used to their presence and don’t know what to think about them not being there anymore.

Molly was mothering more than usual. Commenting on his hair, straightening his jacket, and asking him if he was sure he had packed everything. It was a weird kind of affection that Ed had lost the ability to deal with over the years, and it let him feeling worn out and overwhelmed.

As the time came to depart, he slipped back into his room one last time, only to find Sirius waiting. “ Hey, Ed,”

“Hey,”

“You ready to go?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Do you-” he cleared his throat. “Do you want to go?”

“Not particularly.” he reached up to scratch his head awkwardly. “Not that I have much of a choice in the matter.”

“Yeah…” The two sank into an uncomfortable silence, the kind that hadn’t existed between them since their first weeks together.

“I have something for you.” Sirius pulled a parcel out of his pocket and extended his arm towards Ed. “You can open it up when you get to... wherever it is you’re going.”

“Thanks, Sirius.”

“I’ll miss having you around," he hesitated. "and uh, good luck with getting home.”

Ed grinned. “Thanks.”

“And when you do manage it, you better send me an owl goodbye first.”

“It’s a promise.” Ed reached out and accepted the package, and shook Sirius hand tightly. The two broke apart as a knock came on the door, and a tall dark skinned man let himself in.

“Edward Elric?”

“That’s me.”

“My names Kingsley Shacklebolt, I’ll be escorting you today.”

Ed nodded and picked his bag off the end of his bed. All his property in the world fit into a neat little box, _not much different than home._ “Right then, shall we go?”

Kingsley gestured for Ed to lead the way and nodded back at Sirius in acknowledgment. Molly pulled him into a tight hug and Arthur gave a small wave, never really having forgiven Ed for attacking his wife. Harry and Ron stood Awkwardly to the side, While Hermione and Ginny waved goodbye. The twins came up to him together blocking his way to the fireplace.

“Here,” Fred handed a small drawstring bag over to him. “George and I whipped this batch up a while back,”

“Might help make a quick escape you if you wind up in trouble.”  George finished. 

The twins clapped him on the back simultaneously as they moved back to the others, the force of it knocking Ed forward. The twins chuckled, and Ed flipped them off over his shoulder while Molly was looking the other way.

Kingsley gave an exasperated sigh as he tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace. “5 Watson Street, Banchory Is the address you need.” Ed nodded and stepped into the fire, suitcase at his side. With a last glance over his housemates, he spoke the address and was whisked away in a flash of green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who forgot it was Wednesday! My History teacher decided to give us a 46-page test spanning from Pre-History to the American Revolution (how she thought we were going to manage over 200 questions in 75 minutes I will never know) and posting this slipped my mind. So happy Thursday to a lot of you? Alaska time puts me earlier than most.  
> see you next week!


	16. णिचोलस् Fलमेल्

The house Ed came out in clearly hadn’t had anything close to a permanent resident in decades. The wallpaper was peeling, tables were broken and overturned, and signs of vandalism littered the room. Kingsley came through the fire moments later, shaking the soot out of his long robes. “We’ll wait here for your connection.”

“My connection?”

Kingsley nodded. “I’m only taking you halfway, Dumbledore has arranged for someone else to come pick you up from here.”

“So even you don’t know where I’m going?”

“Sorry, kid.”

Ed sighed, all the secrecy surrounding the move was making him antsy. He wouldn’t say what he had with the Order could be considered trust necessarily, more a mutual understanding they weren’t about to push each other off a cliff. He hovered awkwardly at the much larger wizards side, who seemed content to stand there and do nothing else but watch the dying flames flicker. Ed distracted himself by wondering where he was and of how much more convenient his life in Amestris would have been if he didn’t have to hop a train for a day and a half to get anywhere. A flare of green and the familiar rush of magic shook Ed from his thoughts and told him his connection had arrived.

He jerked his eyes up as the new arrival made their way out of the flames. The witch was lean and dark-skinned, and hair was long and easily just as dark, the front braided into a crown around her head. She walked with a kind of unquestionable authority, that he rarely saw on people his own age, and it made him wary. He had no doubt in his mind that she was who they were meeting.

“Elia Rosier I presume?” Kingsley extended his hand to shake.  _ Rosier? _ Ed struggled to think where he had seen that name before, _ It has to be something Sirius told me, it’s something about that name… _

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she accepted Kingsley’s hand in her gloved own. “And you must be Edward Elric,” she said turning to face him.

“Uh, yeah. It’s nice to meet you.” Ed froze halfway through extending his arm.  _ Golden eyes meeting almost black… _ She closed the remaining distance between the two of them, locking his hand in her grasp. Time seemed to slow as their eyes locked, Ed felt his hand close around his wand. He didn’t know any spells yet, but she couldn’t know that, and with her hand grasped around his, he couldn’t transmute, and-

Then she stepped back, and the electrifying intensity of the exchange faltered. She reiterated her cloak as she pulled out a small bag of Floo Powder. “Come along Edward, my master is waiting.”

“Yes, you better. Our window of unmoderated time on that fireplace is closing.” Kingsley closed his pocket watch and looked at Edward expectantly.

Ed stayed where he was eyeing her warily. “Edward? Is everything alright?”

His eyes narrowed and he squared his shoulders to her. “It was you in the Leaky Cauldron, watching me from the crowd, wasn’t it? I didn’t see much of you, but it was enough.”

“What are you talking about,” Kingsley asked, glancing between the two of them. Ed could see the man tensing, ready to fight if the need arose.

Elia gave him look. “I’m afraid there might have been something of a misunderstanding. I was certainly in that pub the other day running errands, but I can’t remember ever seeing you.” seeing that neither of them was backing down, she sighed and reached under her cloak and drew out a letter with a broken seal. “Here,” she handed it over to Ed to inspect. “The Professor's request to my master that he send someone to retrieve you here,” she tapped some of the lines of writing. “And at this time.” she taped the next line down.

Ed’s eyes scanned the letter, recognizing the sloped handwriting from the letter he had received from Dumbledore telling him about the trip to Diagon Alley. “Satisfied?” Elia asked, her voice remaining indifferent despite the tenseness of the situation.

“Edward?” Ed glanced Kingsley's direction and gave a reluctant nod and handed the letter back to the witch. Elia led him to the fireplace and gave him a handful of Floo powder.

“The Castle Pub is where we're aiming.” Ed nodded and climbed into the fire, for a second he considered saying Leaky Cauldron, or Grimmauld Place, or really anywhere not where the witch wanted him to go. But the downside of Floo travel he realized, you had to announce your destination, and the others weren't confined just to travel by fireplace.

With one last glance at Kingsley, he spoke the address and was again whisked away.

\---

Elia shook the ash out of her hair as she left the fireplace. Ed stood waiting for her just off to the side, leaning against the bar. The bartender gave her a wave, and she returned in kind and walked over to where he was working. 

Her body language had shifted as she stood there conversing. Her shoulders relaxed downward and she slid out of the stiff posture she had adapted around Kingsley, with her firm professionalism stripped away she seemed like an entirely different person. It seemed Ed would have to figure out which persona was the truth.

Eventually, Elia pulled away from the old pub owner and beckoned Ed to follow. The moment Ed stepped outside he could tell they had gone farther than Ed had ever traveled by Floo before. The roads were paved with cobblestones, and the building had a bright out of time quality about them.

“Where are we?” He asked as his eyes scanned the buildings in wonder.

“Rothenburg, Germany. On the magic side.” Elia answered, “My master lives just outside of the town.”

“And who is that? Your master?”

“You'll see when we get there.”

“Wow, that wasn’t cryptic at all. Thank you for being  _ so  _ helpful.” Ed murmured under his breath. 

The two of them strode through the twisting streets, Ed doing his best to map out the route back to the pub in case he needed to make a hasty retreat. Rothenburg reminded him of southern Amestris with its old style buildings and color palette, to the point that Ed was almost expecting to see Al running to catch up with them any second now. 

A couple people waved their way as they passed, and Elia reciprocated in the same familiar manner she had with the pub owner. Ed couldn't tell if her actions were for his benefit or not but it seemed natural. She led him to the end town, and Ed found himself among the familiar sight of rolling farmland. He couldn't help the smile that came to his face as the sights and smells of his childhood in Resembool flooded his senses. 

As they moved through the sea of green past grazing farm animals, Elia led him up a hill to a large house, the only one for miles around it seemed. Using her shoulder to push the door in, she led him inside. She shrugged her cloak off, and hung it on a hook by the door and directed Ed to the dining room table. 

“Wait here, I'll fetch the master.” he professionalism had returned.

Ed nodded, and lowered himself into one of the seats. It was looking less and less likely that Elia had been leading him into a trap. None of the darkness that seemed to cling to the air around the Black Manor lingered in the farmhouse. Though, there was  _ something…  _ Ed just couldn't quite put his finger on what.  _ Something ancient. _

Ed looked up as the door Elia had disappeared through creaked open. She had returned with an elderly man in tow. His spin bent and twisted in a way that Ed couldn't imagine was anything but painful. He had a pair of thick glasses set on his nose, and his long white hair was tied back in a low ponytail. 

“Sir,” Ed stood as the man approached. Elia pulled out a chair for the man and moved to stand at the door.

“No need to call me ‘Sir’ young man,” he said waving his hand for Ed to sit. “I think we are peers, you and I.”

“What do you mean?”

The man raised his head and fixed him with an even gaze. “I think you know exactly what I mean.” Ed’s eyes widened, and his breath caught as gold eyes met gold.

“You’re-” Ed cut himself off with a glance at Elia.

“Yes, I’m Xerxian.” the man's tone was clipped as if the matter of his blood was something inconsequential. “And there’s no need to censor your words around Ms. Rosier, she already knows everything.”

“How did you get here?” Ed asked in wonder.

“Same way you did, Mr. Elric.”

Ed shook his head. “That’s the thing, I don’t know how I ended up here.”

The man hummed. “I presume it was the Death Eaters who called you here, yes?” Ed saw Elia fidget slightly out of the corner of his eye.

“Yes, I mean, I think so. They were surrounding me when I woke up.” 

The man nodded as if that confirmed his theory. “Well, it was really only a matter of time, before someone got pulled through.”

“What do you mean it was a matter of time? Does this happen often?”

“Not often, but more than it should.” he coughed, and Elia was at his side with a glass of water in seconds. “The Alchemy required to make it work is far too advanced for anyone not incredibly skilled in our particular vein of Alchemy, but if you get enough wizards together and channeling their energy into the array, with basic idea of what they’re doing, sometimes they can get lucky and only kill a few people to open the gate.”

Ed tried not to balk at the casual way the man spoke of sacrificing lives, at the moment his need to have his questions answered was more important. There being an array lined up with what the Dwarf in the Flask had told him, and the mass amount of power helping to compensate for the lack of skill in directing the energy made sense as well, but there was still on thing Ed couldn’t quite wrap his head around. “Why? Why open the gate? It doesn’t make sense.”

The man grinned. “But it does if you look at things from their perspective. Alchemist of our kind doesn't exist in this world because with the ease of magic, no one ever figured it out! But we can do things they can’t. Magic is all about using energy to shatter and break the laws of the universe, but us, we work with the universe, and we have so much more power for it. Death Eaters, Grindelwald's Army, Emeric the Evil, Owle Bullock, they want power and they see us as a source of it.”

“And what? They think that ripping us away from our homes will make us want to fight for them?”

The man sighed, “Not exactly. The writing prefacing the array, the original array, was written in Xerxian. It was translated poorly into Old English, and from there into the current English, we are speaking now. Last time I saw it, it read something like ‘to summon a golden spirit’ previously I saw it as ‘Call a beast of gold.” They truly have no idea what they’re doing.”

“What did it say? Originally?”

The Xerxian man called for Elia to get him some paper. Moving his quill with the skill Ed could never manage he wrote, च्अख्युः बभ्रुरूपः आच.  

Ed squinted his eyes, as he scanned the words on the page. “Declare the golden man?”

The man shrugged. “More or less.” he tapped the page. “This one here can also mean ‘to call’. It doesn’t really matter for us, the words don’t matter for the transmutation itself, but for someone unaware of the true translation, the array is likely to be used for the wrong purpose. Like, say to summon a golden monster, rather than a Xerxian boy.”

“And you? Did you get pulled through like that too? Where you unable to find your way back?”

The old man gave a weary sigh. “No, Mr. Elric, I was not.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I was the one who created the array in the first place.”

Ed froze. “You wanted to come here?”

“Not here exactly, just away.”

He shook his head, unable to grasp what would make a man want to up and leave everything he’d ever known. “Why?”

“The last man who came here told me Xerxes had been destroyed. I didn’t really believe him the first time he appeared, but the second time he came knocking on my door hundreds of years later, I knew it must be true. There would be no other reason for the gate to pull the same person through twice if there were any other options.”

“Hohenheim,” Ed said quietly.

“You know of him?”

“I do.” the old man fixed his eyes on Ed, but the blonde refused to elaborate further.

“Yes, well it seems, the events that led to my arrival here ran synonymous with many of his.” Ed stored away that knowledge to contemplate for later, as he tried to piece together who Hoenheim had been. “Have you ever heard of the philosophers stone?”

“Yes, I have. And beyond that, I know how it’s made.” Edward tried to keep the clear disgust out of his voice at the thought of it.

The old man chortled. “That makes things easier. I’m sure knowing what you do, you’ve figured out what happened to our country?” Ed nodded. “I lived in the town where one of the first experiments occurred, I was an apprentice at the time, about twelve when riders from the capital came and ravaged our village. They killed everyone, everyone but me, as I transmuted myself beneath the floor of my master's home and hid. When I climbed out, I found royal Alchemists preparing for a transmutation, just finished dragging the bodies of everyone I ever knew into five evenly spaced piles around the village courtyard.”

Ed watched the old man's hands shake as he spoke, he couldn’t imagine what that would be like walking into that.

“My vision whited out, and I just charged for the Alchemist in the center. I reached him just as the transmutation activated, and when I woke up, the Alchemists were dead, and I could die no longer.”

“Wait!” Ed stood up sharply looking down at the man. “You’re a human philosopher's stone?”

The man shook his head. “Not anymore.” Ed collapsed back into his seat and waited for him to continue. “When I realized what had happened to me, I went back my master’s lab. I couldn’t stand the thought of remaining in the world any longer. It took me years, but I figured it out. I packaged away all my notes and sealed them, went to the courtyard where it had all began and drew the array. I entered this world with little more than the clothes on my back, and I couldn’t have been happier. At sixteen I had myself enrolled at Beauxbatons, met my wife and married her. About 1333 this world's time.”

“But you’ve aged?” Ed asked cautiously, the idea of the man living so long seemed impossible to wrap his head around.

The man hummed. “I have. I was no longer a human philosopher's stone when I attended school, but a human with a philosopher’s stone. I learned over time to draw the stone from by blood into solid form, I needed to be able to age if I was to be seen in public. I was never able to withdraw it all, I still healed, but I was able to age. When I married my wife, I gave her half my stone and we have been alive together for a very long time. At about fifty, the two of us decided to give up aging, and I presented the stone for the world to see.” Ed’s heart skipped a beat. “We had enough stone in us to keep us our same age for a good while, and we were happy. But my stone is gone now, destroyed to keep it out of the hands of the very man responsible for drawing you here, and my wife and I are dying.” the man shifted in his seat. “Albus doesn’t know about where I’m from, so you are very lucky he thought to contact me about you. Because I might be the one person on this earth that can get you home.”

And suddenly Ed understood, the reason the alchemy Hermione had told him about was so similar to his own. Nicholas Flamel was from his world, and he was going to help him get back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another one down! Honestly, I had a really hard time writing this chapter for some reason, but with this chapter done, I can do plot things I've been waiting for. Also yes, Elia is an OC but I needed her to put some things in motion. I promise there will be very few in this, and they'll never be the fics main focus.  
> Also apologies, but unless something changes I'll be off next couple weeks to give myself a break to get some school work done. I've got a few too many science labs coming up, for me to confidently say I could give you a decent chapter. I'll be back on the 17th.  
> Till then!


	17. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of a time skip from the last chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peers out from my cave and slips chapter out into the light*

Harry,  _ no Voldemort, _ paced silently down the manor hall, his Death Eaters frozen in fear at the table in front of him. There was a delicious taste in the air, the feeling of anxiety and stress, rolling off the Wizards. 

Harry,  _ no Voldemort, _ Couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. This is what true power was. Not community and respect built on love, but fear. Cold unadulterated fear that fills and darkens every nook and cranny of the soul. Fear that drives men to madness and murder. Men only show their true selves when they have nothing left to lose.

The survivors of the Black massacre knelt at  _ Harry’s _ feet, quivering as Nagini slid past them. They had news, news of the Golden Demon Boy. He had been seen, and  _ Harry  _ was pleased.

“Rosier.”

“Yes my lord?” Harry looked down at the man coolly. Both he and his wife had refrained from so much as a flinch as his gaze fell on them.

“What would you suggest?”

“Suggest my lord?

“I gave them a deadline to bring the boy to me. They have failed me. But some of them have brought me information that could prove quite useful.” Harry paused. “What would you have me do with them?”

Rosier fell silent, but not in fear, in thought. The man would have had quite the career in politics if he hadn’t been nearly arrested and sent to Azkaban. “What use do you have for those who serve no purpose? Kill the spares, my lord.” One of the women at Harry’s feet let out a sob. “Those who have pleased my lord should be allowed to continue their search.”

“Please my lord have mercy!” the woman cried out, she crawled out of line and grasped at the hem of his robes. “Please my lord! I’ll do better I swear. I’ll find the boy for you! I’ll do anything!” Harry felt nothing but cold indifference for her as he made a sharp slash with his wand and broke her neck.

“Have anyone else among you have anything more to say?” they remained in line, though a few shook as they held in tears. “Nothing?”

“We have failed you, my lord, there is nothing more for us to say.” a man spoke up from further down the line. Did he think his honesty would save him?

“How very right you are.” and Harry raised his wand.

Harry jerked upright gasping for breath, tightening his hands around the sheets taking comfort in the rough and familiar feeling of the wool. 

“-arry? You okay?” Ron murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

“Yeah, sorry I woke you.” Harry's voice caught on his words, and they came out strangled.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Ron. It was just a bad dream.”

“Was it- you know, him?”

Harry nodded.

“Want me to get someone?”

“No, I’m fine Ron. Just go back to sleep.”

Seamus stirred in the bad across the room as Harry relaxed back into his four-poster. It was just a dream. He was at Hogwarts, it was just a dream.

\---

Ed hissed as the small knife he had been using to skin Shrivelfigs, unstuck itself from a particularly tough part of the fruit and sliced his finger. Elia looked across the picnic table at him over her own pile of figs with a bemused expression on her face.

“Elric, best clear up that blood before it contaminates the ingredients,” Flamel called out from where he sat reading on the stoop, not even glancing up from his book.

“Yes Master Flamel,” Ed called back, as he fished out his wand from the side pocket of the bag he had been collecting figs in. “Tergeo”  he murmured and watched as the blood coagulated before his eyes.

It was that morning, allowing the two teen’s the ability to finish collecting the last of the years harvest from the grove out behind the Flamel house. Without magic or Alchemy of course. It seemed that a teacher's love of making things needlessly complicated transcended worlds.

Of course, in all other aspects, Flamel and Izumi were night and day. Flamel was more old-fashioned and traditional about his teaching. Books and manuscripts, and theories took up a good portion of Ed’s schooling time with the ancient man. Where Izumi had been a firm believer in “real world experience”.

Mrs. Flamel was a kind woman who Ed found often reminded him of Gracia Hughes. She was a talented witch, even if she didn’t practice much these days, but she’d never really taken to Alchemy, despite its role in keeping her alive. She had a tempering influence on her husband, who Ed had come to learn had little patience for mistakes, and was quite keen on showing it off.

Elia, even after the month’s Ed had spent with the Flamels, he wasn’t quite sure where she fits in. Flamel had treated him like an apprentice right off the bat, but Elia was much more like a servant than a student, despite her participating in most of the same lessons as him. She never seemed to take issue with the treatment, which made Ed think it had been that way for a while.

They didn’t receive any visitors up at the farm, the only people who came and went were himself and Elia, and even then only on Sunday’s which Flamel gave them off. The golden-eyed man worked him like cattle, giving him spells to practice in his downtime, and intricate magic based transmutations to balance under supervision. The day’s when Flamel was too ill to leave his bed, Elia taught in his place.

At first, it had been overwhelming, Flamel acting as the biggest information dump Ed had experienced since Truth. But lately, he had gotten the hang of things. Thanks in no small part to Sirius’s parting gift. The notebook had seemed completely ordinary at first, but much to Edward’s delight, it had the ability create new pages when it was filled, meaning Ed didn’t need to rustle through a thousand different journals every time he needed to double check something.

Magic had been difficult at first, the impossibility of it all serving to stunt Ed’s ability to perform it. Flamel’s original advice to “stop thinking like a scientist” wasn’t working, the order of the world far too deeply ingrained in his mind to simply turn it off. 

In the end, it had been Perenelle who had given him the answer. 

Ed had been sitting out in the orchards just staring at his wand. He could remember the feeling of the magic when it had chosen him, but he just couldn’t get it back. He had felt Mrs. Flamel far before he had seen her, both her and her husband had a decidedly inhuman air about them. Elia he noted, was strangely absent from her side. The girl was almost always hovering nearby when the frailer of the two Flamel's left her bed.

She settled herself on the porch next to him gently, Ed reach out to help her but she waved him off. “I understand you're having trouble with that wand of yours,” she said, her voice kind and without the edge of condescension, he was growing used to hearing in her husband’s voice.

Ed sighed and ran his fingers through his long fringe. “Yeah, I just, can’t, quite feel it.” he waved his hands with frustration. “I mean I can feel it, it’s all around me, but when I reach for it, it’s just not there.”

She nodded, her gaze locked on something far in the distance like she was remembering. “I can’t say I know much about Alchemy, but, when Nicolas has tried to explain it to me I always saw it like a river.”

“What do you mean?” Ed cocked his head to the side to look at her.

“He talked a lot about the  _ flow _ of Alchemy, and well, I’ve always seen magic as a flow as well. Your alchemy is like an underground river, you have to reach deep for it and compromise with it, in order for it to be useful. Magic is above ground, easily accessible, and easier still to spot, but easily underestimated. If you think it’s there to serve you, you’re likely to get pulled under.” Ed nodded, starting to realize what she was getting at. “The difference is, you’re too cautious. Your experience with Alchemy makes you wary of accepting anything easy. You’re the one making it hard for yourself. Magic is safe in moderation, it’s only when one lets himself become dependent on it, do they get caught in the riptide.”

“So? I’m trying to hard?”

She laughed, “You’re  _ overreaching _ , searching for the power like you plan to transmute, magic doesn’t come from around us Edward. It’s in our blood. That’s why you can always feel it.”

\---

Ed shot upright from where he lay slumped across the top of his desk, as he felt a wave of magic slide past him like a ghost. The silvery light flitted past the corner of his eye, and he turned to face the now familiar Eagle Owl Patronus of Flamel. Ed sighed extracting himself from his seat and shoved his feet in his boots, grabbing his jacket as he exited the room. The owl flew down the hall ahead of him leading the way further from his warm bedroom, and into the dark night.

Flamel was waiting for him, his back turned as Ed approached. The Owl touched down on the ancient man’s shoulder for an instant before exploding into silvery light. The man hardly acknowledging its presence.

“Come here, Elric.”

Ed moved up alongside him, the air feeling sharp and electric as he grew nearer. Flamel stood with his hands folded in front of him resting on his long angular wand.

“Sir?” a gust of cool wind stirred the grass around them and sent a shiver down his spine.

“Elia tells me you have developed quite the talent with that wand.” It wasn’t a question, and Ed isn’t quite sure how to answer.

“I’ve... improved, Sir.”

Flamel laughed, “That wouldn’t be hard boy, you couldn’t even make a spark when you showed up here.”

“Yes, Sir,” Ed replied through tight lips. Flamel was intelligent, amazingly so. His years had granted him an incredible amount of time to pour over every little bit of information he had gleaned from the gate, and this put him on a level Ed could never hope to reach. And Truth did he need his help. But still, did he have to be so damn conceited about it?

“It's good, you'll need that. You've been here what? Three months now?”

“Just about Sir.”

“That makes you anxious doesn’t it?”

“I- yes Sir.”

“Why? You don’t speak much of, Amestris did you call it?” Ed gave a nod of confirmation. “Amestris, that means strong woman in the old tongue of this world, did you know?”

“No Sir I didn’t.” Ed was cold and tired and found himself caring very little for the old man’s late-night rambles.

“Amestris was a Queen, of Persia in this world. Not that you could find it on a map these day’s, Persia fell many hundreds of years before even I arrived,” he added almost as an afterthought. “She was the wife of King _ Xerxes. _ ”

Ed froze. “What?”

Flamel gave a hacking laugh. “Got your attention now have I?”

“Sir I-” Flamel waved a hand at him cutting off his protests.

“You're are new to this world Elric, and you didn’t want to come here. I imagine this place truly feels little more than an odd dream to you.” Flamel sighed, “When I came here, I couldn’t wait to submerge myself in this world, to become one with its culture and it’s people. But the more I learned, the more began to see the shadow of my home in the pages of this worlds histories.”

The air seemed to hum around them, raising every hair on Edward’s neck.

“ _ That Amestris, the wife of Xerxes, when she had grown old, made return for her own life to the god who is said to be beneath the earth by burying twice seven children of Persians who were men of renown,” _ Flamel spoke as if quoting something he had once read.

“Queen Amestris sacrificed seven children for extended life?” A cold had spread throughout his bones, it wasn't exact, but the similarities couldn’t be pure coincidence.

“Fourteen, if you listened carefully. But the number seven does come up later in the story.”

“There’s more?”

“It’s history Elric, there’s always more.” Flamel drew in a deep breath of the night air and began to speak again. “Xerxes gets murdered, goes out like most rulers did in those day’s, assassinated by someone he trusted. His killer then goes along a gives the kingdom to his seven children. But of course these things are cyclical, and Xerxes and Amestris's son, in turn, slew the assassin and his children bringing everything to a bloody and poetic end.”

“What are you trying to say?” Ed asked warily.

“You are ever so anxious to return home.”

Ed felt his hackles raise, as he faced the old man in full. “What is it to you?”

Flamel gave another laugh as if even in his old and weakened state, Edward was little more than a nuisance to him. Easily quashed. “Nothing but an old man’s curiosity. It's not my world anymore. You know when Albus first wrote to me about you, I didn’t believe what he was saying. He never mentioned Amestris or The Gate once, but I know him. I knew him well enough to tell there was something off about you, so I sent Elia out to get a look. She told me, in the moment your eyes met, you looked as if you would kill her.”

Ed’s brow raised in confusion, startled, and he tried to reply the strange meeting in the Leaky Cauldron again in his head.

“She said,  _ ‘Those eyes have fire in their depths, and I pity the fool who get’s in his way’ _ and you my boy don’t realize what high praise those words are.”

“How is she saying, I looked a  _ killer _ , praise?!”

“Because Rosier’s are monsters in their own right. Even the good ones have an ambitious streak a mile wide. You must have looked at her with a special kind of fight.”

“If they’re such monsters,  _ why the hell would you trust one’s judgment of me!” _ Ed was practically yelling now. The story, combined with Flamel’s unsubtle probing and the sharpness on the energy around them, made Ed feel like he was standing in the middle of a pressure cooker. So much so that he almost missed the man’s response.

_ “Because unbreakable vows are hardly kind to liers.” _

Ed froze. He was not unfamiliar with the term. His extended stay in the Black’s library had left him with more of an understanding of the dark arts than the light, included among this knowledge was the various ways in which you could get someone to do things they would otherwise not be inclined to do. Ed found that a vow that killed you if you didn’t obey was one hell of a motivator.

“You-  _ you made an unbreakable bond with a teenage girl? _ ” Ed practically hissed at the master Alchemist.

“No.”

“Oh!  _ So what? _ Did you make it when she was a  _ toddler _ instead?”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“No I don’t,  _ I really truly don’t”  _ Every moment he had seen her standing like a shadow behind either of the two Flamel’s, how her personality had changed between dealing with Kingsley, to the villagers, flashed behind his eyes. He could feel the rage boiling inside him until he was almost snarling.

“I didn’t make the bond with her Edward, I made it with my apprentice, her ancestor.”

“That’s impossible, the bond breaks in death.”

“Clearly not both participants are dead.”

“That still doesn’t explain why Elia is bound to you. Especially if she wasn’t involved with the actual contract at all.”

“Because my idiot apprentice bound on his blood!” Flamel yelled back.

The two stood in silence for a second, rage and magic simmering just below the surface.

Flamel was the first to speak. “He swore that his blood would serve mine until every drop of it had dried.” 

“So when he died, his kid’s had to serve you?”

“His youngest only. From then on the youngest of the newest generation of his Rosier's was bound by the vow until death. At which point the vow would seek out it’s the youngest host, from the most direct line of descendants."

“Why the youngest?”

“I’m not really sure, my best guess is that my apprentice Alexander Rosier being the younger brother of Elizabeth, and Isaac Rosier, transferred the vow to his position in the bloodline rather than just to the bloodline itself.”

“So none of Elizabeth’s or Isaac's families ever got tied into it?”

“No, though I wish they had. Their lines could have used some pruning over the years.”

Ed couldn’t help the disgust that crossed his face at the Master’s casual comment.

“Please, the world would be better for it. Elizabeth married into the Avery family, and Isaac's most recent descendants are those Black girls Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Andromeda. Two of those girls are active Death Eaters, and their families were as good as, even before that was what they were calling themselves.”

_ But Sirius, _ a little voice in the back of his head spoke.  _ Sirius is good.  _

“If the whole debacle with the philosophers stone hadn’t happened, I would have expected us to outlive them all. Grace, Elia’s aunt, got dragon pox and died, so we got her young, and she doesn’t have any brothers, so after this generation, Alexander’s line will finally be gone. It’s Archaic magic so it doesn’t count people as part of the family once they’ve married out. But now it seems the Rosier’s will endure longer than the Flamels. The paperwork we file with the ministry saying that we’re privately tutoring her, so she can get away with underage magic, will finally mean something in the long run. Substantial proof she had a top-notch education. She won't have any trouble finding a job when I'm dead, with a personal endorsement from Nicholas Flamel. And neither for that matter will you.”

“What?” Ed shook himself out of his stupor and looked at the man. “ _ What are you talking about?  _ Did we not just talk about how much I want to go back to Amestris?”

Flamel waved his hand. “It’s not so much a matter of if you want to go back, it’s a matter of  _ how  _ you plan on going about it.” He cut off Ed before he could speak. “You’re welcome to my array if you can steal it away from the death eaters, but that still doesn’t solve the issue of the toll.”

**_“It’s up to you Mr. Elric. Are 100 lives worth whatever it is you’re trying to get back to?”_ **

The Dwarf’s words rung in his ear, he was still no closer to an answer then he was then. Of course, he wouldn’t kill a hundred people, but if he didn’t get back thousands upon thousands would die.

“I only called you out here to talk Elric, I only wanted to know what makes you tick. Thank you for not disappointing.” and with a snap, Flamel was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but I felt like I was going to claw my eyes out if I read over it one more time.  
> Til next week!


	18. Sands of Time

Ed felt like the wind was knocked out of him as Flamel’s electrifying energy disappeared with the man. Ed stood frozen in the field, his head light and fuzzy as he tried to wrap his mind around everything the Master had told him. Amestris, Elia, the vow… It all seemed too much.

Come on Ed, think it through. One problem at a time.

Elia, start with that. The easiest thing to look at objectively. Elia was… not quite a friend, not really. She had never seemed interested in things like that, and Ed was far too busy with learning everything he could about magic, to pursue anything that wasn’t happening naturally. Their Sunday’s off was the only time he ever saw her relaxed, and he supposed that made sense. The bond Flamel’s apprentice had made wasn’t a simple one. It wasn’t an ‘I promise to never reveal your secrets’ kind of bond, but a promise of servitude. The clearly defined breaks they were allowed her recess, even if it was only brief.

While Ed couldn’t say that Unbreakable Vows had been a particular point of focus for him back at Grimmauld Place, they had intrigued him enough to learn their rules. The number one rule he had seen accompany anything about a Vow, was that it had to then specifically. Alexander had promised that his blood would serve Flamel until The Master's blood dried. 

Ed shook his head in disgust, what an idiot. Could he not just have said, “I will serve you”? 

His bloodline trapped to serve the Flamel’s, until there were none left. All because he decided to be flowery with his worlds.

_ Take note of that Mustang… _

So Amestris then. It made sense in a way, The Gate connected the two worlds together. If they already mirrored each other in appearance, why couldn’t share other things? They spoke the same language, he should have figured that meant they shared something of a similar past. But… Amestris and Xerxes was history here, back home that was his present.

It’ s a little too late to use the story to predict the future, Ed thought bitterly. Now more than ever it’s proof that humans can’t change. He supposed the ending was promising, especially if the traitor and his children were this world's Father and  Homunculus as he suspected. But, he couldn’t just rely on stories. If this was going to come to an end, they were going to have to do it with their own two hands.

Ed pulled his jacket tight around him to fend off the night chill and began to trudge back to the house.

He didn’t even bother to kick off his shoes before collapsing into bed, passing out almost the second his head hit the pillow. Then in his gut, he felt a familiar tug pulling him down through the nothingness of sleep.

Ed’s eyes snapped open and he took in his surroundings with wide eyes. He wasn’t sure exactly where he was, though, from the look of things, they were still out in the countryside. In the distance, he could hear the faint sound of laughter and crackling fire, and he moved nearer to the faint sounds of civilization.

**_“So this is years back, and I’m trudging everything the back streets of Fotset, you know, trying to duck my loving family-”_ ** Ed couldn’t help the smile that came to his face at the sound of Greed’s familiar voice. **_“And all of a sudden, I’m alone with this girl- and I swear on my life I didn’t plan this- she’s completely naked, I mean not a stitch of clothing on her-”_ **

“Yeah yeah, you’re a god of sex we know, we know-” Ed reached the edge of the clearing just in time to see himself toss a bag of stolen goods at Greedlings head.

_ Wait. _

That wasn’t right.

_ But it was…  _

Ed looked down in shock at himself, reclined against the downed tree they had set up camp by. His shirt was off, having just finished changing his bandages, and his hair was down loose.

**_“You’re just jealous. Perfectly normal considering how little success you’ve had with that little mechanic of your-”_ ** Greed shot back.

“WHAT!” he squawked and lept to his feet, wincing as the sudden movement jarred his injured side. The Chimera's laughed anymore as Ed hurled threats and insult Greed’s way, the homunculus leaping just out of striking range like a rabbit.

**_“You know Eddie, I think I might have been a little off base-”_ **

“You think?!”

**_“-Clearly I’ve hurt your feelings, how wrong of me to offend a fair maiden such as yourself!”_ ** Greed gave an artful bow, relying on his ultimate shield to catch the blow of Ed's Automail.

“What did you just call me?!” He howled, Darius looked like he might die of laughter, while Heinkel only sighed and waved his hands at them to calm down.

“Yeah Ed, why do you wear your hair so long? Doesn’t it get in the way when you fight?” Darius asked as the large man wiped tears of laughter from his eyes.

“Hey! Ling does too!” he heard himself say back indignantly.

Ed lost track of the conversation as he stared wide-eyed at the scene playing out before him. This was months ago, month’s before Ed had even been pulled through the gate. Could it really just be a dream? No, it felt too real...

**_“Having fun little Alchemist? That's quite the memory."_ **

Edward whirled around, the color surrounding him vanishing as he moved until he stood alone in an empty white void. No, not completely alone. Truth sat cross-legged behind him, freely displaying Ed’s lost arm and leg, his violently large grin spread across his face.

_ “You.” _ Ed spat out, as he marched towards the figure threateningly. But despite the fact Ed could feel himself moving forward, he grew no closer.

**_“Now, now, is that any way to treat someone you haven’t seen in ages?”_ **

“What am I doing here? What do you want? I didn’t open the gate.” Ed growled, ignoring Truth's comments.

**_“No.”_ ** Truth said it’s voice lacking its usual vigor. **_“You didn’t. If you’d done it, it would have opened and shut properly. Now everything is all wrong. As for why you’re here, I grabbed you for a little chat on your way to your destination”_ **

“What do you mean ‘everythings wrong’?”

**_“Human beings aren’t meant to exist in two places at once, much less three you see.”_ **

“What?”

**_“You are only meant to stay on your side of the gate, crossing over requires a power no one soul can possess.”_ **

“I know. It’s closer to a hundred souls right?”

**_“Not quite. Opening The Gate, as I’m sure you’ve gathered, is quite easy. It’s shutting it again that makes things difficult.”_ **

“Shutting it?”

**_“When a human opens The Gate and passes from their world into the in-between space, it creates a vacuum. This vacuum guarantees that when the human is returned to its proper place, the doors are pulled shut behind it.”_ ** Truth straightened up and came towards him on uneven feet.  **_“But when you slide through without stopping in the in-between, there is nothing to pull the doors shut again.”_ ** Ed jerked back as his own emaciated finger jabbed his chest. **_“And your soul wants to make things right and return to it’s home, but as you know from dear sweet Alphonse, without both parts, the whole is helpless.”_ **

“That’s why I keep getting pulled back isn’t it?”

**_“Precisely.”_ **

“But hold on, what did you mean about me being in three places at once?”

**_“Amestris”_ ** It held up one finger. **_“Germany”_ ** Ed’s stolen hand raise another.  **_“And right here with me wrapped up in dear little Alphonse.”_ ** With the spirit of a circus ringleader, waving his arm to the side, Truth revealed behind him the starving form of his little brother.

_ “Al!” _ Ed shoved past the figure and charged at his brother, but like before and movement Ed made forward had no effect.

_ “Brother.” _ Al rose unsteadily to his feet, his legs wavering under his weight.  _ “I can’t go with you. I’m sorry, but I can’t leave. Not now, not without my soul.” _

Ed staggered and gave a frustrated cry, and crumpled to his knees. _ “I know.” _ He said helplessly, his expression hidden by the fringe of his hair. “I know Alphonse. I’m sorry.”

_ “You have to find your way back, have to get home brother. Even the body you were born with won’t last forever if your soul keeps rejecting it trying to get back home.” _

**_“He’s right little Alchemist, a human is only meant to exist as a whole being.”_ ** Ed’s world rotated so that he was facing Truth again, his gate looming large and imposing behind him.  **_“Oh? It seems our time is up, Edward Elric.”_ ** Truth said with a manic grin.  **_“Time for your soul to move on!”_ **

Ed’s gate swung open with a resounding clang and a swarm of black hand swarmed out. He couldn’t help but struggle against their grasp as he desperately tried to glimpse his brother once more.

Ed bit back a cry of pain, as his body- no his soul was deconstructed inside the gate. There was no unending wave of knowledge pounding into his head as he traveled through the black, but that only made it all the more disorienting. Ed lost all sense of time and direction in the gate, and it felt as if he were being watched by thousands of hidden beings, deep within the darkness. His mind broke apart under the pull of The Gate until he knew nothing at all.

\---

He was really truly on the other side of The Gate when he came to again. The earlier trip down memory lane must have been a side effect of his spontaneous detour to Truth, and he was sure where he found himself now was no memory of his. 

Greed sat slouched in his seat, tucked away in the back corner of a little pub, a girl giving him eyes from a couple tables over, but for once the sin didn’t seem interested. Darrius made his way back from the bar, carrying fresh drinks for the two of them. Dodging intoxicated dancers as he crossed the floor.

“Cheers boss.”

**_“Thanks.”_ **

“Heinkel not back yet?”

**_“Nope.”_ **

The two sat in a despondent silence at their table, a stark contrast to the upbeat music playing around them. Ed moved closer from the outskirts of the room where he had been lingering and made his way towards his friends. 

“Hey, guys.” Ed sat at the table next to them, straddling his chair backward and resting his chin on the tall wooden back. “What’s going on? Still keeping moving?” But of course, he received no answer.

**_“His Highness says he thinks we should get in contact with Alphonse, tell him what’s happened.”_ ** Ed perked up at the mention of his little brother, the image of his skeletal body in The Gate still fresh in his mind.

“Sure, we should probably tell the central forces as well, but can we risk it? The kids’ not the only reason we were staying under the radar, and we could make things worse for the others if we surface to pass on the news.”

Greed sighed and tossed back his drink. **_“This is a real fucking mess isn’t it.”_ **

Darrius hummed, “Yeah, it really is.”

Ed gasped as a patron settled into the chair he had been resting on, passing right through him. He staggered to the left as he tried to regain his breath after the disagreeable feeling of existing inside another person. Grumbling to himself he moved over to the bench next Greed, settling himself far enough away that the homunculus wouldn’t accidentally pass through him. 

A pretty waitress Greed would usually have been all over, stopped by to see if his friends needed any more drinks, and later a small brawl broke out over by the pool tables. Greed and Darrius make stilted small talk while waiting for Heinkel to return from wherever he was, and Ed just sat by, tucked into the corner of the bench watching, and rambling. To himself, to Greed, to Darius, the universe...

“I honestly can’t say I expected you guys to care so much.” Ed said dully, “and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for the trouble, I promise I’m doing my best to set things right. It’s just- hard you know? I don’t really know who I can trust, and I don’t really know what I’m doing. Frankly, I’m just taking shots in the dark and hoping something lands.” Ed shifted in his seat turning his gaze to the bar, where a worker stood polishing glasses. “Al said I’m working on a time limit, but I’m thinking that’s got to be more of a long-term issue than anything. Al’s soul seems to be holding on pretty good, so I’d say I have at least as long as he’s been in there, to work with. Course, It’s past The Promised Day already where I am. From what I figure, the two worlds have a bad connection. It doesn’t seem like much time has passed on your end at all, but over here…”

Ed’s rambling was cut off by the emergence of Heinkel. The large man was having little success weaving through the crowd of people and kept drawing angry glances from those who he bumped. “Found us a room for the night. Old lady runs an Inn at the end of the street. Blind as a bat, so I’d say the likelihood of her turning in a description to the MP’s is pretty slim.”

“Good,” muttered Darrius. “I can’t wait to leave this place, I keep feeling like someone watching us. It's giving me the creeps.”

Ed didn’t bother trying to follow his friends, as he could already make out the shape of the portal forming to his left. Hesitating for a moment, he glanced over at their retreating backs a last time. “I’ll see you around guys, I promise I’ll be back.”

And Ed was sucked back into the nothingness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't quite get the last scene to mesh with the rest of this chapter, so I cut it for next week. Sorry, it's shorter than usual.  
> Till next week  
> -Pree


	19. Nest of Snakes

Flamel contemplated the invitation on his desk with a scowl. The thick paper with its gold leaf and it’s perfectly slanted letters was nothing he hadn’t seen before. Normally the man would hardly have glanced at one before tossing it to the side to use as kindling later. But now he was hesitating.

An Invitation to a gala. The invite promising _an evening of entertainment and social mingling_. In other words, exactly what he had spent his last hundred years avoiding. But his conversation with Edward had got him thinking. He supposed, in his old age, even knowing how close it was, he never really expected to _die_. He did know that death would come for him one day, but it always seemed an abstract concept.

When it finally came for him and his beloved wife, he doubted few would notice. They had stopped making public appearances almost forty years back, and he rarely responded to correspondence from either the Ministry or the International Potion Masters Guild.

Edward would take over the title as the only Xerxian on earth, but not his immortality. And soon there wouldn’t be a soul alive who’d even know of their world. Even someone who had lived a life as long as he, returned to the earth from with he was formed, and left nothing behind. Sure there were his ideas, but over time they would be changed and twisted and built on until they were unrecognizable.

Equivalent exchange in it’s most pure form.

Albus would. His oldest living friend would notice. It was a funny thought that, _his oldest living friend._ He was nearly six times as old as Dumbledore.

The Rosier’s would know of course. With The vow finally broken, they would be free to go about their lives. He imagined they would all show up for whatever amounted to a funeral for him. Less to pay their respects, and more to ensure that he was properly dead.

_Alexander…_ he didn’t see much of his old Apprentice in Elia. Other than the eyes of course. Every true Rosier had black eyes. He should have known better than to take the boy on as his apprentice. He was young and stupid, and only just beginning to make a name for himself as an Alchemist back then.

Then along came Alexander, A second son set to inherit nothing, freshly married, and without a job. He had taken pity on the boy, written up the vow, and the overzealous young man had agreed to far more than he had any right to give. By the time his wife's third child was born, he was restless, but couldn’t leave. He had stolen Flamel’s array and drawn it out, then called for his wife and told her they were going to a new world.

The woman, ten times smarter than her husband had ever been, had recognized the madness in his eyes, and run to fetch her husband's Master. They had been too late.

Alexander had been there, his body a twisted mess of skin as bones. The Gate having failed to receive the payment it had been promised. The array Alexander had written remained on the ground, but the original he had stolen from Flamel was nowhere to be found.

It had been years before he had so much as heard a whisper of its whereabouts.

His time on this earth was almost at its end, he could feel it in his bones. But it wasn’t yet Edward’s and it wasn’t yet Elia’s.

The two of them held a distinct disadvantage in this world. Never having attended school, they had lost valuable time to build important connections among the movers of the wizarding world. He hadn’t lied, his patronage would help them out significantly, but, it wouldn’t win them trust.

Elia had a good bloodline to back her up, and Edward as the son of Von Hohenheim... well his father had done well for himself in certain circles, during his time on Earth.

This Gala might be the perfect opportunity for them to start making up for lost time. Flamel glanced down at the name on the invite again, _Malfoy…_

\---

Ed grumbled as he adjusted the long black dress robes. They were unnecessarily ornate, with far too many layers of thick material to be functional in any capacity. Ed practiced moving in them as he crossed back and forth in front of the full-length mirror in his room. Cursing as he tripped, Ed found himself almost missing the stuffy military uniform Mustang forced him into for formal events.

Ed righted himself as quite laughter sounder from the doorway behind him. Mrs. Flamel stood framed by the light on the candle she was holding, her long grey hair down and loose across her shoulders.

“May I come in?” her brown eyes sparkled with warmth.

“Yeah,” Ed said, situating himself on his bed. “Sure thing.”

“You almost ready to go?”

“I will be if I can even figure out how to walk in this thing.” Ed shook the oversized sleeves in frustration.

She laughed again, “Here, let's see if I can fix that for you.” pulling out her long pale wand, she flicked it in the direction of his robes and Ed felt the magic in the air shift around him. “There, try that now.”

As he stood, he noticed the robes moved ahead of him, keeping a small buffer of room between the fabric and his heavy combat boots. Ed grinned as even large strides failed to hinder his movement. “Thanks.”

“It’s not a problem, I remember how much a clutz Nicholas was in his robes when he started school,” she said fondly, but after a moment her face grew more serious. “But that’s not why I’m here,” She drew a small box out of her pocket and passed it to him. It didn’t feel magical, but whatever it was weighed a fair amount.

Ed opened the box, inside sat a simple gold signet ring. Carefully he picked it up and rolled it over in his hand until he could see the crest inscribed on it. The Flamel Cross sat proudly adorning the front of the ring, in far more detail then Ed had even seen it before. Each individual scale of the snake and each feather of the wings sculpted with great care.

“You are my husband's apprentice after all.” Mrs. Flamel replied to Ed’s look of confusion.”I know it might feel out of character for you, having spent the last few months hiding everything about you. But tonight is for showing off a bit. These old families revel in prestige and power, if they think you could help them get more of it, they’ll help you after my husband and I are gone. If not, they won’t give you a second glance.”

Ed nodded solemnly, he knew this dance. Mustang had been teaching him the ins and out of how to deal with power hungry people ever since the day he had officially joined the military. He couldn’t say he always listened back home, but he understood the severity of what was happening now. Understood it, but still didn't think it was necessary. There was no way he was lingering in this world long enough for him to need the connections Flamel wanter him to make.

“There we go,” she murmured as she helped him slide into an outer cloak that felt to about his knees. “Now remember only families in good standing should be at the party, that means no one the Dark Lord is mad at. There shouldn’t be anyone there that would recognize you, and the Death Eaters don’t know your name. But, if you feel like someone is watching you a bit too closely, Tell Elia and she’ll apparate the two of you back here. The farm is warded so they won’t be able to find us even if they connect you to Nicholas's apprentice.” Ed nodded, and followed her out into the main room.

Elia stood waiting for him at the front door, her long black hair swept up into a low bun, and her long white dress a stark contrast to his overabundance of black. “Ready?” she asked, holding out her arm for him to grab hold of. Ed nodded, as his gloved hand closed around the lace of her sleeves. Ed steeled himself for the jarring feeling he knew was coming. He hadn’t apparated since Flamel had registered his wand with the ministry so he could do magic, the first time with Sirius and Remus had been enough for him.

A sharp crack echoed in his ears, and his stomach jumped to his throat. Coughed, he released his grip on Elia and braced himself against the imposing gate the circled Malfoy manor. “You good?” Elia asked him, her amusement unsuccessfully concealed behind her professionalism.

“Just dandy,” He muttered. Straightening, he retook his position at her side and offered her his arm as the approached the towering castle of stone, trying with little success to ignore the fact she stood over him by several inches.

As they made their way up the main pathway, they were joined by several other couples, all of them adhering to the strict black and white dress code of the party. The effect of the expansive monochrome was the feeling of having stepped onto a great chess board.

They joined other couples in line at the front doors, as the Malfoy’s servants checked their invites for authenticity. The brief lull in movement allowed Ed a moment to observe the other invitees. Most if not all the couples were well older than him, though a few were accompanied by children and teens in uncomfortably starched collars.

“Good evening Sir, Ma'am,” a servant greeted them at the door. “May I see your invitation please?”

Ed reached into his cloak and drew out the thick envelope and handed it to the man. “And you are Mr. and Mrs. Flamel?” the servant asked, looking at the two in confusion and wariness.

“No,” Elia spoke up, her words every bit as crisp and practiced as they had been when they’d first met. “I am Elia Rosier, and this Edward Elric, heir to the Hohenheim's. We are the apprentices of Master Flamel, and are here at his behest.”

The servant frowned, looking uncomfortable. “If you would come with me please.” He finally said with a small frown. The two of them followed him into the house. Every stone seemed charged with magic, and he concentrated on shoving down the building pressure in his skull. The servant led them to a small sitting room and pulled a thick velvet rope along one of the walls, summoning another attendant. He passed the message on to the newly arrived attendant to fetch the Mistress. _Narcissa Malfoy if I’m correct, a relative of Elia’s accordingly to the Master._

“It’ll only be a moment,” the servant said, smiling tightly. “I’m afraid your situation is quite unorthodox.” Ed opened his house to wave off the man's apology, it wasn’t his fault after all, but Elia beat him to the chase.

“Well, we can only hope this inconvenience will be rectified shortly.” her tone was clipped and short, and Ed almost spoke up to ask her what her problem was before remembering, _right, playing high society blood supremacists_.

Ed glanced around the room, if the Malfoy’s wealth hadn’t been made obvious by the massive size of their home, the sitting room would have done the trick. Ornate furniture decorated the room, while one wall was dominated by a massive tapestry of a family tree. Much like the Black family one, Ed had seen at Grimmauld Place, several faces had been burned off.

The need for any other conversation was removed as the Lady of the House returned with the attendant. Narcissa Malfoy was a severe but beautiful looking woman with long hair, an odd mix of blonde and brown. Ed could see the traces of her cousin Sirius in the structure of her face, but she carried herself with a sense of purpose he’d never seen his former housemate have.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, you are more than welcome to come in.” Her voice was cool and clear and carried across the room with ease. The assistant opened the side door the room and Narcissa led them out. “We’ve been sending invitations to dear old Nicholas for years, but this is the first time he’s ever sent apprentices.”

_Or responded at all._ Thought Ed.

“Master Flamel is a very busy man. I’m sure he didn’t mean to cause any offense.” Ed responded, taking a page out of Elia’s book.

“Of course not.” She said with a tight smile. The came to the main ballroom, and Ed was endless grateful he had a guide to lead him around the manor. There were so many turns, and hallway offshoots he wasn’t sure how the Malfoy’s managed to find their way around. Ed was certain he had seen at least three massive libraries in only the short walk to the main party.

“If you would excuse me,” Ed soon lost sight of her, as Narcissa disappeared back into the crowd of black and white dresses.

Ed and Elia waded out into the throes of people, Ed accepting a glass of champagne from a waiter that passed by. “You see that man over there?” Elia said tilting her head towards a pudgy, balding man, laughing red-faced a few people away from them.

“Yeah?”

“That’s Cornelius Fudge, otherwise know as the British Minister of Magic.”

Ed raised an eyebrow skeptically, “that’s the ‘brave and fearless leader’ of the British Empire?”

“Not quite the all-powerful figure one would expect, eh?” Ed whirled around as a silky voice grazed the back of his neck.

“Uncle,” Elia said shortly facing the pale man who had appeared behind them.

“Niece.” The new arrivals voice was decidedly warmer than hers but carried a faint tone of condemnation that made his skin crawl. Where Elia was dark, the man was pale, long and spindly where she had curves, but still, they had the same unmistakable black eyes. “I must say I’m surprised to see you here, your absence has been noted this last…. Decade.”

“Master Flamel has kept me quite busy over the years.”

“Ah, but of course.” he smiled. “And you if you ever want to put that knowledge to good use, I know some people who would simply love to hear what you had to say.” Elia pressed her lips together tightly, “Of course the offer extends to your friend here too, Mr. Elder I believe Narcissa said?”

“Elric,” Ed corrected, accepting the man's outstretched hand. “Edward Elric.”

“Pyxis Rosier.” He responded, holding the handshake for just a moment too long. “I can’t say I’m familiar with the name Elric, Half-blood are we?”

“Yes, Sir.” Ed pushed down the uneasy feeling in his gut, warning him to what this man obviously was.

“I hate to think of a handsome young man like you locked away with only a much of dusty old books for company, why don’t I introduce you to some friends of mine? I’m sure my niece won't mind if I cut in just for a little.”

“Of course not,” she replied with a forced smile. Elia reached up and accepted a glass from a server and inclined her head Pyxis’s way. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Ed watched her back retreat into the crowd, as she tried to put distance between herself and her uncle. Gritting his teeth, he avoided jumping as Pyxis placed his hand on the center of his back, directing him. “This way my boy.”

As Pyxis led him through the sea of bodies, Ed took in the sights around him. It was odd comparing these wizards to The Order, or even the Flamels. They all lived like normal people, using magic only as an occasional assistant. But the guests of the Malfoy’s seemed to exude it. Everything from their dresses, to their hair, sang with magic, the room was practically drowning in it.

“Are you interested in politics Mr. Elric?”

_I need friends, that what the Flamel’s said. “These old families revel in prestige and power, if they think you could help them get more of it, they’ll help you”_

“Why do you say that?”

_I need a way home without killing people, I’m fully aware that could mean breaking rules. One taboo might be needed to pay for another. I’m never going to learn everything I need if I just keep relying on The Order for all my information._

“Your disgust with our charming leader, he wasn’t what you were hoping for.”

_Time to put those acting skills to the test. What was that Mustang said? ‘The best lies hold some truth?’_

“I’ve never really had the patience for it.” Ed paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. But I am a believer in seeing the right people in power.”

“And you don’t think our Minister is that?”

_People will die If I don’t get home. I have time on my side. Amestris moves slower than me, But that’s no excuse for laziness._

_I’ve got two good feet, It’s damn well time I used them._

Ed locked eyes with Rosier, “No.”

\---

  
_Closer, Closer, he just needed to be closer-_

Harry jerked upright in bed, his arm tingling with the phantom feeling of reaching for the door.

“You Alright ‘arry?” Seamus asked groggily, pausing as he climbed back into bed.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Harry nodded. He had been _so close_. He wasn’t really sure why it was important, but he desperately needed to get through that door.

“If you say so.”

Ron rolled over in his sleep, muttering something about spiders. Harry relaxed back into his bed, his hand tingling along the scars on his hand.

_I must not tell lies_

Harry let his mind drift as he stared at the top of his four-poster bed. He wondered how Sirius was, and Professor Lupin and Mrs. Weasley were doing. If the climate at Hogwarts was anything to judge by, things were only getting worse.

He supposed he would see them all soon, with Christmas break coming up. He wondered if Ed would be there. He hadn’t seen the other teen since Kingsley had taken him away at the end of summer. The way The Order was talking at the meeting had seemed urgent, and he couldn’t help but wonder what trouble Ed had gotten himself into.

Harry rolled over in bed,  _maybe if I go back to sleep now I'll dream of the door again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is the point where things should start to tie back into the OotP plot. Since my plan is to split this into parts, each one covering a different book, the ones after this should involve less of Ed off doing his own thing as he gets closer to finding his way back.  
> -Till next week


	20. Onwards

“Do you know what I am Mr. Elric?” Ed could just make of Pyxis voice over the swell of the music.

“Yes.” Even if he hadn’t been warned about the darker nature of the Rosier family, there was just something wrong about him. A coldness that seemed intertwined in his very presence that left no question about what Pyxis was.

“Do you want to be one too?”

“No,” Ed said, with a shake of his head.

“No? I thought we shared some common… interests.”

“We do,” Ed paused, considering his next words carefully. “But I’m not about to take that risk yet.” I’m already part of one extreme militant group, no need for me to accidentally add an extremist cult to that. Plus, you guy’s kind of want to capture me.

Pyxis smiled, but Ed could tell he was disappointed with his answer. “Of course you’re still young, you have a few years of learning left in you. No need to dedicate yourself so wholly at this point.” Turning his head, Pyxis’s eyes lightened, and Ed knew he had found who he was looking for. “Lucius, come here a moment.” He said, waving over a suave looking man with long white-blonde hair. Whether it was how he naturally looked, or how he was standing, Lucius gave the impression there was something foul-smelling under his nose.

“Who is this Rosier?” The Malfoy patriarch looked at Ed with a scrutinizing gaze, his eyes hardening when they met the glow of Ed’s own gold. “What are-”

Lucius’s harsh tone was quickly cut off by Pyxis. “He’s a Hohenheim.”

Ed narrowed his eyes, both at the use of his father's name, and the fact the Rosier had remembered that, but coincidently forgot his real name during their first meeting.

“Ah, I see.” Lucius settled himself. “I wasn’t aware there were any Hohenheim's left.”

Ed couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of his tone as he answered. “There aren't many.”

Pyxis kept on talking as if Ed hadn’t said anything. “I brought young Edward over here because he’s rather close to your boy’s age isn’t he?” Lucius nodded, his face carefully blank.

“Yes, and?”

“Well I do hope you don’t mind me saying this Edward, but we all know Flamel isn’t long for this world, and well- how old are you Edward?”

“16”

“See- He’s not of age, which means he must attend school by law. It would be a shame to lose him to say, Durmstrangs, with the talent I’m sure he possesses…” Pyxis trailed off, and Malfoy looked considering.

Flamel did say Rosier’s have an ambitious streak, by this guy really wants me with the Death Eaters… I wonder if it has anything to do with that Voldemort guy’s attempt for Flamel’s stone a while ago? Do they think I could tell them how to make one?

“I see,” Lucius responded. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” the man disappeared back into the swell of his party, and Ed could practically feeling Pyxis grinning over his shoulder. Moments later Lucius returned, his hand clamped tightly on the shoulder of a tall boy. Heir to the Malfoy's... Draco then. Elia was right, he is the spitting image of his father…

“Draco, this is Edward. He will be attending Hogwarts at some point in the near future, won’t you show him around? Rosier and I have some things to discuss further.”

Ed locked eyes with the pale boy's gaze. “Of course Father,” The Malfoy boy said with a tight smile.

“Good-bye for now Edward, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.” Rosier tossed over his shoulder as he and Lucius moved away from them.

“Shall we head to the gardens?” The kid's words were tight, he clearly had no interest in actually showing Ed around.

“Sure, I could get away from this,” he said gesturing to the swarm of people with his glass.

Ed perked up as Draco muttered something under his breath,

”What was that?”

“Nothing, just, the gardens are this way.”

Ed followed the blonde as he slipped through a small door on the side of the ballroom. A couple twists later, and the two boys came out came out at a large glass door. Draco pushed it open, and Ed’s lungs were flooded with cool night air. The garden he had been led to seemed completely independent of the grand one Elia and him had entered through at the start of the night.

“This is the Rose Garden, there aren't actually any roses- but that's what my grandmother called it, and the name stuck.” Ed wasn’t really listening to Draco ramble about the historical significance of the property, more focused on how much more natural things felt out here. The magic seemed to flow in its proper path, instead of the contorted and twisted way it wrapped around people in the manor. “If you would we’ll move on to-”

“Can we just, wait for a second?”

Draco blinked, momentarily thrown off before composing himself. “Of course.”

Ed drew in a deep breath, listening as some small bird flitted along one of the tall hedges. “It gets awful stuffy with that many people in a room,” he said by way of explanation. Draco nodded stiffly off too his left. “I always try and find a terrace or something to retreat to when I go to these things.” he murmured, more to himself than anything.

“Do you go to these things often?”

Ed startled, surprised to hear the kid talk. “Only when I have to.” Ed turned to face Draco and leaned against the marble rail.

“Have to? Do you attend with your family? I’ll admit I’m not really sure what it is the Hohenheim's work in.”

“No,” Ed hesitated, “not with my family.” he felt like he’d probably said too much for comfort, but it just felt nice to talk to someone. Even if that someone was a teen with more than questionable motives for engaging in conversation with him. “My superiors tend to be the one dragging me to things like this.”

“Superiors? Like Nicholas Flamel?”

Ed raised an eyebrow at the faint tinge of excitement he heard in Draco’s words, the question presenting the first bit of real emotion he had heard from the kid. Ed gave a little laugh in response. “Sure.”

“What’s he like? Flamel I mean.”

“Why?”

Malfoy paused, contemplating his answer. “He’s odd,” Draco said. “He has all the power and wealth he could ever want, and yet he does nothing with it. He could run the world, but instead, he stays cooped up in some manor somewhere.”

“It’s a farmhouse actually,” Ed interjected with a small grin.

“What?” Draco asked a look of disbelief on his face. “The Great Master Flamel lives in a bloody farmhouse?”

Ed laughed at the contorted look on Draco’s face. “He’s actually kind of an old codger really.”

“An old codger?” Draco looked aghast. “That’s one of the most powerful wizards who's ever lived you’re talking about!”

“Well, he’s no suave genius to be sure.” Ed's grin grew even wider, as Malfoy managed to look even more scandalized. “I mean, he’s brilliant but he’s really kind of a dick.”

Draco’s face fell back into neutral like he had simply short-circuited. “You're messing with me right?”

“Can’t say that I am,” Ed said with a loose shrug, feeling lighter than he had in weeks.

Draco gave a defeated sigh and slumped across the rail next to Ed. The two stood in silence, the icy tension between them having dissipated as they spoke.

“I suppose I'll never know if you're lying or not."

"Nope."

The silence resumed between them, only to be broken moments later. "When I was seven I wanted to be an Alchemist,” Draco said, his voice muffled in the sleeves of his dress robes. “I’d read some book I picked up in Diagon Alley, and I was obsessed. My father was away that summer, some ministry business, and my mother didn’t see the harm in it. By the time my father had returned I had all but decided to track down Nicholas Flamel and ask to be his apprentice.” Draco straightened up and ran his fingers through his pale hair. “Course, when my father got home, he put my head back on straight and that was the end of that.”

Ed frowned, his face hidden by his fringe, shading his eyes from the moonlight. “Why couldn’t you be an Alchemist?”

Draco looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Because I’m a Malfoy. Malfoy’s don’t become Alchemists.”

Ed backed off sensing he’d touched a nerve, he was here to make friends, not enemies.

“We should go back inside,” Draco said quietly, as he turned and walked back towards the glass door. Ed drew one last breath of night air and turned to follow.

\---

The tiles were cool along Harry’s scales as he moved down the dark corridor. The air tasting ripe with dust and mildew as he slid along unseen.

_Closer…_

_Closer…_

Harry’s heart raced as he neared the door, _he was so close…_

A sudden nose froze him for a moment, and he tilted his head to locate the sound. There. A man slept slumped to the side, snoring gently.

_Such juicy flesh…_

_How lovely would it be to rip into…_

But no, Harry didn’t have the time, he needed to get through that door.

_Closer…_

_Just a little closer now…_

The man startled awake as Harry passed and gave a cry of alarm. Harry saw a wand being drawn out of the corner of his eye.

_No helping it now…_

_Harry reared back and struck the man with his fangs, tearing through the layers of robes and into the body underneath. The man let out a scream as Harry struck, again and again, ripping and tearing. The thick taste of copper flooded Harry’s senses, overflowing from his mouth, and coating his face, flowing down his throat. Harry reared back to strike again-_

_“HARRY!_ HARRY!”

Harry gasped awake, fighting against the sheets the bound him in place.

“Harry stop! You were just dreaming!”

“He’s really ill.” he heard someone whimper, his eyes refusing to focus as they darted from one figure to the next.

“Neville go get McGonagall!”

“Ron!”

“I’m right here Harry, everything's alright.”

“No- No, no it’s not!”

“What?”

“Ron, You’re dad-”

“What about my dad?”

“He’s been attacked! We have to get someone to help him!”

“Harry…” The hands on his shoulders relaxed their grip. “You were just sleeping, Harry.”

“No! I wasn’t. Ron! We need to help your dad, he’s been attacked!

“Harry, mate-”

Harry kept on rambling. “He was attacked by a snake Ron. A great big snake. I- I mean- I think- I think I was the snake.”  
Harry heard murmuring from somewhere else in the room, but he couldn’t pinpoint where. His head was still spinning too much, and his body shook with tremors. _WHY ISN'T ANYONE DOING ANYTHING._ Harry tied to push himself to his feet, but Ron caught him and forced him back into bed.

“-on mate, just relax. You need to breathe Harry, everything fine. It was just a dream.”

Harry shuttered in his bunk, every muscle in his body pulled tight. He drew a shaky breath in and blew it out, he’s insides writhing like worms.

“Potter! What wrong?” Harry’s head shot up and Professor McGonagall charged into the room, Neville on her heels.

Harry pushed himself upright his hands tremoring as he spoke. “It’s Ron’s dad, he’s been attacked.” Harry swallowed down the lump building in his throat. “He’s been attacked by a snake and it’s serious- I saw it happen.”

“What do you mean, you saw it happen?” Her brow furrowing as she looked him over.

“I don’t know...I was asleep, just dreaming like normal, and then I was just there. _I’m not lying professor_ , I swear.”

“You mean you dreamed this?”

“No!” Harry shook his head, why couldn’t any of them understand? “I was there. Mr. Weasley was asleep, and then this giant snake attacked. There was loads of blood everywhere.” Harry’s whole body shook as he retold his dream. "Someone's got to find out where he is- someone's got to help him.”

McGonagall looked at him horrified, “Potter-”

“I haven't gone mad professor! _I saw it happen, I’m not lying._ ”

“I believe you, Potter,” she said, taking his arm in her hand. “Throw on your dressing gown, we need to wake the headmaster.”

Harry half stumbled out of bed, fumbling as he shoved his glasses on his face, and followed the professor out of the room. Seamus and Dean looked at him warily, while Neville looked worried. Ron was close behind them, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he could remember McGonagall telling him to follow them.

Harry felt almost hysterical as he exited the portrait hole into the hallway, having to catch himself every few feet to keep from falling. The trip from the common room in Dumbledore's office passed with an almost dream-like quality to it, and Harry only came back to himself as McGonagall pressed a firm hand to his back, leading him up the stairs. Harry could hear a babble coming from with the chamber, but couldn’t make out any words through the thick door. But as McGonagall pushed open the door there was no one but the headmaster inside.

Dumbledore glanced up at their entrance, dressed in his evening wear, it was the least put together Harry had ever seen Dumbledore. “Professor?- ah,” the Headmaster paused as his eyes flitted over Harry. “What seems to be the matter?”

“Potter’s had something of a nightmare-”

“It wasn’t a nightmare!” Harry shouted, cutting her off.

“Well then you tell the headmaster what happened,” she replied with a frown.

“I mean, I saw it while I was asleep but it wasn’t a dream. Ron’s dad- Mr. Weasley’s been attacked Sir, someone has to help him.” Harry felt his frustration grow as Dumbledore refused to make eye contact with him, resolutely staring down at his long fingers.

“And how did you see this attack?”

“What? Well in my head I guess-”

“No, no you misunderstand me. Where were you watching from? Above? Standing with the victim?”

“I was the snake,” Harry said, hesitating as he saw Ron grow even paler beside him. “I mean- I think, It felt like I was.” he ended weakly.

Harry almost stumbled backward as Dumbledore shot to his feet, and called out to two of the many portraits lining his office. The headmaster gave a hurried explanation for what they were doing as he sent Fawks to act as a lookout.

Ron was shaking like a leaf beside him, and Harry wasn’t fairing much better, as McGonagall left the room to wake the other Weasley children.

Dumbledore was speaking to one of the other portraits now, the voice of the occupant Harry couldn’t quite place. The headmaster marched over to his desk and slashed his wand over what appeared to be an ordinary boot. The black leather of the well-worn shoe glowing blue for an instance.

Professor McGonagall entered the office almost simultaneously with Fawkes, and for a moment everyone froze. “She knows,” Dumbledore said, his voice echoing in his ears coldly.

“What’s happening? What’s going on?”

“Harry! The Professor says you saw dad get attacked?”

“Is he alright?”

“How bad is he hurt?”

“Are you sure it was him?”

The spell of silence was broken and Harry was bombarded by a flurry of Weasley voices, loud and overwhelming.

“Come on children.” Harry heard McGonagall’s voice rise over the din. “You need to get going now. The Portkey will lead you back to Grimmauld Place.”

Harry felt himself be shoved forward.

_“1…”_

Ginny’s elbow struck him in the ribs as she jockeyed for a better hold on the boot.

_“2… “_

Harry looked away as his eye’s accidentally locked with George’s, thinly veiled accusation in their depth. In that instant, his eyes locked with those of the headmaster, and something rose up inside him.

He was the snake again, and he wanted nothing more than to _rip apart the old man’s throat. Just reach out with his fangs and bite..._

_“3.”_

And the ground beneath his feet was ripped away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special apologies for any editing mistakes this chapter, I was finding hard to make time for MaM this week.
> 
> Also, I tried not lift anything directly out of the text for the Harry stuff, personally I always feel like copying down exactly what the author said is a bit of a cop-out. Sorry if reading a scene that came directly from OotP felt tedious.
> 
> Until next week!


	21. Hourglass

Edward rolled his fingers compulsively against his long-finished glass of champagne, his gloves the only thing muffling the clink of his automail fingers. In no part of his life was Ed particularly renowned for his patience. He was capable of it, of course, he was a scientist after all, but that didn’t mean it came easy. And as Draco lead him out of the fourth guest parlor in ten minutes, he was finding that he was rapidly nearing the end of his rope.

Ed was actively considering the pros and cons of asking Draco to escort him back to the party, though the thought of reentering that swell of corruption brought a bad taste to his mouth, when a Malfoy servant suddenly appeared through one of the many doorways leading off from the hall. The servant glanced Ed’s way before leaning over to whisper something in the youngest Malfoy’s ear. Draco frowned as the servant excused himself with a bow, and he turned to look at the Alchemist.

“It seems your friend, has need of you back in the main hall.”

“Elia? why?”

“Don’t know,” Draco said with a shrug. “The message was only that she required your presence.” there was a clear undertone of relief in the boy's voice, that he no longer had to show Edward around.

“I guess I should get back to her then,” he said, looking at Draco. The Malfoy, taking his cue, turned around and began to lead Ed out of the maze that was Malfoy Manor. Ed frowned, it could be nothing. If there was one thing he had learned about wizards since arriving in this world, it was that they were all fans of unnecessary dramatics.

Elia was waiting for him as they re-entered the hall her lips pursed tightly. Her dark eyes meet his, and he knew his hope had been in vain. Something was indeed wrong.

“Thank you for returning my peer Mr. Malfoy,” she said with a small inclination of her head.

“No problem at all miss...?”

“Rosier.”

Ed could see the faint brush of surprise cross his face before Draco wrestled his neutral expression back.

“If you’ll excuse us?” Elia asked, her pleasantries more forced than usual as she pulled him away from the young aristocrat.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” Ed asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

“I don’t know, but there's something _off_.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can feel it,” she said pulling a little at the dresses high collar like it was choking her. “It’s like there’s something… _rotten?_ ” Elia frowned, clearly unable to put her feeling into words. “I think there's something wrong with the Flamel’s.”

“Is it the vow?” Ed said without thinking and was met by a flash of dark surprise across her face. _She didn't know I knew_ , he realized.

“Yes, I think so.” Her tone was even, and a little wary.

“Then we need to go back! You could die if we don’t.” Ed said, grabbing ahold of her wrist impulsively.

Elia wrenched her arm away and shot a quick glance around at the people surrounding them. “I’m very well aware of how an Unbreakable Vow works, _thank you very much_.” she practically hissed.

Ed blinked, stunned for a moment by the sudden movement “Sorry,” Ed said with a frown. “But you could, couldn’t you?”

Elia tugged uncomfortably at her collar again, her lip finding it’s way between her teeth. The fidget, more of a crack in her usual stoicism than he had seen in as long as they had been living together. “ _Yes-_ I mean, it’s strange. This isn’t right.”

“So we go back then,” Ed said with a sure nod. It wasn't worth staying here if it risked Elia's life.

She inclined her head in agreement. “I just want you to know, I’m not sure what we’ll be returning to.” Ed furrowed his brow, trying not to think too hard about Elia’s ominous words. She pulled a servant to the side and told him to give the Lady of the house their sincerest apologies for leaving early. She locked her arm with Ed and the two of them moved their way down the length of the hall, and out into the garden.

The second the two left the property, Elia apparated away. But in that brief moment of limbo, the space between one place and the next, Ed could have sworn he heard the faint sound of Truth’s laughter.

\---

 _Cold_  was the only thing Nicholas was able to comprehend in his state. His great mind, reduced to registering a single sensation, _what a joke_. He had to say, he wasn’t much of a fan of this dying business. It had crept up on him so suddenly, and now it seemed to be taking so long.

He had been sitting at his desk writing up the day’s record when a chill came over him, like someone had walked over his grave. His hands had begun to tremble, growing in strength until he could hardly hold his quill. From the other room he had heard Perenelle cry out, using what remained of his strength he braced himself against the wall as struggled his way to her.

She sat shaking on the ground next to their bed, her hands withering before his eyes. Drawing her into his arms, Nicholas understood what had begun. The stones were failing at long last.

They had repaired their bodies over and over until the stones were only shadows of their former selves. Now their bodies were reclaiming their aged forms faster than the ashes that remained, could fix them. Nicholas couldn’t help the weak laugh that escaped his throat, the universe was quite eager to get him in the ground after all this time it seemed.

Bracing one arm under Perenelle he pushed himself to his feet, pulling her up with him. He locked eyes with her, her beautiful face laced with barely concealed pain and he felt guilt gnaw at his insides. He did this to her, however, you framed it, her pain was the result of his actions. A fitting metaphor for his life.

Perenelle coughed weakly in his arms, and he turned to look at her again. “Nicholas, you self-pitying bastard,” she muttered. “I agreed to take this pain when I married you.” another weak laugh escaped him.

“Say that out loud did I?” he said giving her a gentle smile as he eased her onto the bed, his arms fighting to stay strong.

She smiled. “You didn’t have to, I’ve been standing by you far too long not to know what that expression means.”

Flamel moved up alongside her, resting her head on his chest and weaving their fingers together. Small muscle spasms in his legs caused waves of pain to rise over him, and he balled his free fist tightly into the thick comforter they lay on. As the pain died down Nicholas shakily drew his wand and silently called forth his patronus. _“Mr. Bones, we need you now.”_ He said quietly to the glowing owl, leaving the bird to fly off with his message.

Perenelle squeezed his hand with what little strength she still had, and he returned the gesture unable to find any words of comfort for her. She was a smart woman, she knew this was the end.

“Master Flamel?” a clear voice rang out in the other room, far too young to be Bones.

“Master Flamel, is everything alright?” Elia… He knew that voice. So that must mean the other one was Edward.

Relaxing back into his mind he felt the strand, like spider silk, that connected himself to his young apprentice, pulling her towards him.

“This way.” he could hear her say, and Flamel tracked the teen's processes through the house by the sound of Edward’s heavy steps. He heard a sharp intake of breath in the doorway, and he managed to pull his eyes open.

The two stood, still in their evening finery, silhouetted by the lit hallway behind them. “Master?” Elric asked hesitantly, an odd contrast to his usual fiery manner of doing things.

“No need to sound so damn morose,” he grumbled as sharply as he could in his state. “I’m not dead yet.”

“What do I need to get?” Elia sounded unfazed, and Flamel couldn’t help but wonder if the girl was secretly rejoicing in his death. Perhaps even the inborn stupidity in Alexander’s bloodline couldn’t kill the Rosier darkness. He let out a sigh, or perhaps he was an old man who had lived too long and had become too paranoid. Granted, in his position he could hardly fault her for wanting him to die.

“Some cool water please.”

Between one blink and the next, Elia had disappeared and Edward hovered awkwardly beside him.

Edward was... _vibrant._ His familiar gaze almost enough to send his mind drifting again, back to the days where he had been surrounded by golden eyes. But now he seemed reserved and withdrawn in a way that seemed rather fundamentally against his nature. In all the time Edward had spent in his house the boy had never seemed still. Even if his body wasn’t moving, his mind was.

“You look unsettled boy. This your first time watching someone die?” The words come out only a little bitter.

But Elric shook his head. “No sir.”

“Then what is it.”

The boy frowned. “Just because it’s not my first time, doesn’t mean I like doing it.”

Flamel let out a bark of laughter that surprised even him. “You’re too honest boy.” Elric’s head shot up, confusion written across his youthful face. “In any case, I’m no one to be mourning, I’ve had my go at it.”

The boy took a step back from the bed and fixed Flamel with an even gaze. “Forgive me this Sir,” his voice was oddly cold. “I am not mourning you. You’ve lived a life long past what you should have been granted, and you have done a great many things in that time.” no, cold wasn’t quite right. His words weren't meant to bite. “But for many years now you have done nothing but carry on, running down every last second of those lives you’ve lived on.” Edward’s words were honesty. Nothing but the simple honesty of a boy who knew his Master wouldn’t live to see the dawn. “ _I don’t want you to die_ ," he paused. "but I think it’s time.”

“And that bothers you doesn’t it?”

Edward didn’t respond but the answer was clear across his face.

“That hardly makes you a monster Elric.”

Flamel was kept from saying anymore as Elia reentered the room. She moved around the side of the bed and lay the damp towel across Perenelle’s head, smoothing out her long silver hair gently. “Would you like me to send for Mr. Bones sir?

“It’s already been done,” he said, sinking back into his bed. “Now if you’ll both excuse me,” Flamel murmured, closing his eyes. “I think I’d like to sleep now.”

\---

Elia closed the door behind them with a solid click, sweeping her hand back she pushed aside the tendrils of hair that had come loose from her updo. Leaning against the dark wood of the hallway, she drew an unsteady breath. Ed stood off to the side, unsure of how to act or react. The house felt wrong on every level, like its life had been sapped from the foundation.

“What do we now?” he asked quietly, the words weighing like stones in his throat.

Elia gave a long sigh and reopened her eyes, and looked at Ed. “You should go. Wash up, get clean, and pull on something comfortable, it’s going to be a long night.” Her gaze was weary, and in that moment she looked much older than seventeen.

“And you?”

“I’ve got things to do,” she said. “Letters to send out, preparations to be made. Luckily for me, Mr. Bones will handle all the legal matters, I’ve just got to get things ready for him.”

“Mr. Bones?”

“He works from the Flamel’s, he’s sort of their attorney. Has been during the lifetimes of the last three apprentices.”

“So, does he know. About- well, you.”

“The Vow? Of course. He would have to know. In case anyone started poking around at all the dead Rosier’s, he would have to be able to defend it legally.”

“And could he?”

She shrugged. “We’ve never had to find out.” Elia turned heel leaving Ed alone in the hallway.

Ed stumbled back to his room, collapsing down on his bed exhausted. Part of him wondered how Elia could seem so callous towards the Flamel’s rapidly approaching deaths, she had seemed genuinely worried back at the party. But the other part of him told him, that to Elia the Flamel’s sudden left turn into illness couldn’t have felt too abrupt. Not for someone who spent her every waking moment following them like shadows.

He didn’t think she hated them. _No,_ Hatred was the coldness he had felt standing next to her as he spoke to Pyxis. No, she didn’t hate them. But he supposed it would be impossible not to resent them just a little.

Shrugging his robes off, he left them in a bundle at the foot of his bed.

Ed honestly didn’t know how he felt about their deaths either. He truly liked Mrs. Flamel, he found her smart and interesting to talk to, an island of normal in a sea of strange. His feeling’s towards the Master were more complicated. He respected the man beyond a doubt, his research into alchemy was unparalleled. Even if he was harsh, and more prone to insult than praise, he had served Ed well since he had got to this world.

But still, the man’s morals confused him to no end.

The thought of so freely using his philosopher's stone for wealth and fame sickened him. Nicholas had known those people for Truth’s sake. The Vow with the Rosier’s was another thing, even if Flamel hadn’t been directly responsible. But of course the thing Ed couldn’t stop coming back selfishly to his mind. I fit hadn’t been for Flamel, he wouldn’t be in this mess.

“But that doesn’t mean I want him to die,” he muttered to himself as he let his hair down.

_But he did, didn’t he?_

Not for wronging him, or making bad deals but because eternal life was kept from human’s for a reason. Hohenheim's face flashed in his mind, and Ed grimaced. And that was another thing…

Ed stared down at his open hand the what if’s and implications of his parentage swimming tauntingly in his ears. I bleed, I heal no faster than the average person, I scar, I’m human. He ran the mantra through his mind still unable to fully shake the cold feeling in his veins.

With a growl of defiance, Ed marched to the shower and turned the water as hot as it could go, filling the bathroom in a hot coat of steam. The stream of water burned slightly as he stepped under, but he made no move to turn it down. Instead, letting it pound down on him and turn his skin raw.

 _What am I going to do now?_ He wondered to himself. He supposed The Order would take him back, but people knew of him now. People were interested in him. And something told him they weren't the kind of people who took no for an answer.

But whatever he planned to do with himself, he’d better do it quickly. His time was almost up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *runs to the computer screaming because I forgot to update this morning*  
> *Updates*  
> *runs away screaming because I was in the middle of cooking dinner and don't want to burn my house down*


	22. Ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A combination of shitty WiFi and family obligations makes for a late chapter, sorry.

Ed couldn’t decide if Mr. Bones had changed his name to fit his appearance, or if the universe had suddenly grown a sense of humor. But whatever the case, the name was an apt descriptor for the spindly man who’d disappeared into the Master’s room. Elia was off writing letters to important types informing of them of the Master’s death, something Ed found to be a bit premature, but, he supposed when you lived as long as the Flamel’s did there was quite a lot of people to write. But whatever the case, it left Ed alone with nothing to do, and a ball of nervous energy to burn.

He’d changed back into normal clothes, unconsciously choosing the ones he had come through the gate with. Sirius’s book weighed heavy in his pocket, a stark reminder of what he was losing with the Flamel’s. He’d been here months. _Months,_ and nothing. Sure, he had improved his magical abilities exponentially and had learned a fair bit about mixing magic with alchemy, all things he’d normally jump at the chance to learn. But right now, all he wanted was to find a way home.

On that front, he hadn’t learned much.

He would need the array first off. Nicholas had only ever made the one, and that had been stolen away by Alexander hundreds of years ago. He couldn’t discount the possibility of there being more copies now, but he knew that transcription errors could be deadly. So far, the only people he knew that had a legit Transmutation Circle were the Death Eaters. Death Eater’s I now have a connection to thanks to the Malfoy party…

Secondly, he needed a power source. Human lives despite being the currency of the hour were out of the question. But finding something to substitute them with would be difficult. He knew how it would work if he used humans, but trying to replace them with something, say magical, would be difficult.

Lastly, of course, he needed to manage to do all of that without being found out by the Death Eaters or letting the Ministry realize he wasn’t from this world. It was enough to drive him insane just thinking about it.

Ed ran his fingers through his hair as he wrestled with his thoughts, his long blond locks still hanging loose after his shower. He was interrupted as the Flamel’s bedroom door clicked open. Mr. Bones stood at the entrance and leveled his gaze at Ed.

“Edward Elric?”

“That’s me,” Ed responded a little confused.

“May I have a word with you?”

“Sure, I guess.”

Mr. Bones made his way over to him and seated himself across the table from Ed. The older man cleared his throat as he lay a black case on the table, and clicked it open.

“About a month back, Mr. Flamel asked me to file some paperwork at your behest, that listed you as his apprentice.”

Ed nodded. “Yeah, I remember. I had to give him my wand for a couple days.”

Bones nodded. “Yes, and by doing so I created the first mention of you anywhere in the German Ministries records, and while you might not encounter any issues from their end, the British Ministry might feel a bit more inclined to look over your records when you are brought over.” Bones said, giving Ed a pointed look. “If you are to escape detection you will need more than a few passing mentions.”

 _Oh, so that’s what this is._ He supposed it made sense. Mustang had done something similar before he had taken his state exams. Doctored his records to make it clear he had lost his limbs due to the civil war, so that fewer questions would be asked. But this, this was about creating a whole new life for himself.

“We need to work together to create a paper trail, something that legitimizes your claim as Nicholas’s assistant and as heir to the Hohenheim family.”

Ed jerked his head up meeting the lawyer’s gaze, but Bones continued unperturbed. “I don’t need to know why you don’t have a record,” he said. “My job is only to create one for you.”

Ed nodded once, though still suspicious, and drew a breath. “Okay, what do you need to know.”

Bones drew out a long quill and roll of parchment and settled them in front of him, sliding the case off to the side. “The easiest way to keep a lie going, is not to lie. We need to create a story as close to the truth as possible to avoid discrepancies. So to start, what are your parent’s names?”

“Trisha Elric, and Theophrastus von Hohenheim,” Ed said, unable to keep the bite out of his voice as he said his father's horribly pretentious name. A name he now knew had been given to him by The Dwarf in the Flask.

Bones seemed equally unimpressed by it as he looked out at Edward over the rim of his glasses. “Fine. But you say your legal name is Elric?”

“Parent’s were never married.”

“Ah, I see. Any siblings?”

“Al, Alphonse Elric. He’s my younger brother.”

“And is he… around?”

Ed hesitated, the question causing a small lump to form in his throat. “No.” he finally answered. “He’s not with me.”

“Very well.” Bones adjusted his glasses where they were perched. “The Hohenheim's are pure-blood, but what about your mother?”

Ed stumbled momentarily on the question, “Muggle.”

“Really?” Bones said, looking surprised by his answer. Ed nodded, sure of the correctness of his words. His mother had never been anything more than a spectator to the strange world of Alchemy. A shining beacon of a normal life. _I think she would be proud being a Muggle._

“And how did they die?”

Ed froze.

“For the record’s Mr. Elric, I need to know what to put. Something you could remember easily if you would.”

“I-” Ed pulled back and removed his forearms from the table, pulling his hands into his lap. “My mom got sick.” Bones nodded as he scribbled down a note, the scratching of the quill making his skin crawl with discomfort. “My father…”

_What was there even to say about that bastard?_

Swallowing he pulled something out of the back of his mind, a passing mention in one of Hermione's school books… “He went out on an expedition in Romania, dragons, he never came back after that. We don’t know what happened to him.” For a second Ed worried the story would be far to fantastical, but Mr. Bones only made a quiet noise of agreement and marked down another note.

“And your brother? Alphonse?”

Ed’s voice croaked, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. “ _Accident._ Um- instinctual magic got out of hand.” His hands shook a little below the edge of the table. He felt sick, writing off his perversion of Alchemy as a childhood accident, but any other type of accident would invite more questions. Instinctual magic left room for quite a bit of grey area, no two cases were alike after all.

“Good, I’ll be sure to send you a copy of the report so we’ll have matching details. As for where you’re from, the Hohenheim Estate is located outside of Saint Andrews, Scotland so it won’t be much of a stretch to say it was where you lived before becoming Master Flamel’s apprentice.”

“But I’ve never been there,” Ed said in confusion. “Won’t the neighbors notice.”

Mr. Bones smiled at Ed like he was explaining something simple to a small child. “They only neighbors are Muggles, and Muggles can be... persuaded to remember differently.”

Ed frowned, the idea of messing with people’s head was disturbing, to say the least,

“I’ll acquire a house elf to get things in order, and add a little respectability to your name.” Mr. Bones said, packing his things back inside his case. “I’ll be sure to send you your finished file when everything is in place until then, do try and stay under the radar.” The old man straightened and did up the clasp on his traveling cloak. He paused as he pushed open the door and looked back at Ed. looking down his long nose at him, the old lawyer gave him a small smile, “Do have a good day, Mr. Elric.” and then he was gone.

Ed sat in silence for a moment, trying to fully understand what had just happened, when suddenly a cold feeling struck his chest. The chill spread out along his limbs tightening like a second skin around him, before suddenly releasing. And Ed knew, the Flamel's were dead.

\---

Ed stuck to the edges of the room, as government officials, and important types milled about. He tugged lightly on the tie Elia had pressed into his hand as people had started arriving, the thick black material feeling too tight on his throat. He didn’t know most of the people who had arrived at the house, and those he did, were people Elia had pointed out to him at the Malfoy’s party. According to her, when Flamel had died so had a lot of the houses protections. Once word got out, there was no stopping people making appearances regardless of their relation to the master, or if they were wanted

As he thought this, he could hear a squat little man in the center of the room boasting loudly to anyone who would listen about his close personal relationship to the late great Master Nicholas Flamel. A woman in a ridiculous hat telling her friend about Flamel flirting with her at a party they had both attended, and balding aristocrat talking about how when Flamel had come to a block in his research it had been him the man had gone to for help.

Vultures each and every one of them. Of course, he couldn’t say he was much better. After today he would wear his apprenticeship like armor, Flamel’s name his sword.

“Edward,” Ed turned as he heard his name was called from somewhere across the room. “Over here Ed.” Elia stood near the front door he arm raised so he could see her.

Ed made his way over to her muttering apologies as he moved through the mass of people. “What’s up?” He asked, biting his lip as his shoulder was clipped by a passing man.

“Come here,” she said pushing open the door. “There are some people I want you to meet.”

“Okay?” he followed closely behind her, glad to have an excuse to leave the claustrophobic main room.

Elia led him around the side of the house to the edge of Mrs. Flamel’s garden, her carefully grown flowers already seemed duller and faded without her touch. A tall man stood looking out over the valley, his dark hair cut shorter than most wizards seemed to keep it.

“Dad?” The man seemed startled out of his thoughts and turned to face the two of them. He gave them a small smile a took a few steps forward to join them.

“Ah! You must be Edward Elric,” he said taking Ed’s hand in his own. The warmth of the greeting threw Ed off guard and he couldn’t help the small smile that came to his face. “I’m Orion Rosier, Elia’s father.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” The man’s enthusiasm was infectious, and Ed found himself full on grinning by the time Orion released his hand.

“My wife should be around here somewhere…” he murmured as he looked around the yard.

“Right here dear,” came a voice somewhere to his right. Ed turned to see a middle-aged woman with long black hair and the same dark skin of her daughter. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said giving Ed’s hand a small shake. “I have to say we were surprised when Elia told us Flamel had taken another apprentice.”

Ed gave an awkward laugh rubbing the back of his head. “It was kinda a spontaneous thing.”

Mrs. Rosier smiled. “In any case, we were happy for her to get some new company. I hated the thought of her all alone with just those two all the time.” she was still smiling but Ed could see the strain in her eyes.

“Mom, I was fine,” Elia said on Ed’s other side, with an air of someone who’d had this conversation many times before.

“I know, I just-” Orion placed his hand on her waist, cutting her off.

“Relax Hannah, what’s done is done. She’s coming home now.”

Ed shifted a little where he stood, feeling uncomfortable to have seen something so personal. Especially in the life of someone, he thought of as very reserved. “It was nice to meet you two,” Ed said, subtly asking if he could leave. _Looks like Elia’s social niceties are rubbing off on me_ _after all._

“Actually, Edward,” Hannah said turning to face him fully. “We were wondering if you wanted to stay with us. Just for a bit, until you’ve got everything in order to return home.”

“I-” Ed blinked unsure of how to respond to the offer.

“I mean, unless you have family waiting for you..”

“No- I just, I’m not sure I-?”

“Ed,” Elia said, and he was struck but just how at ease she looked. “It’s no trouble, really.”

“Are you sure?”

She rolled her eyes, reached over and yanked lightly on his braid. “Yes, stupid, we’re sure.”

A genuine smile crossed his face. And he nodded. “Thanks.”

“We’ll be happy to have you, Edward,” Hannah said, her warm brown eyes complimentary with her husband and daughters black.

Ed opened his mouth to thank them again when someone called his name from somewhere behind him.

“Elric? You would be Edward Elric then?” It took Ed a second to place the man’s face, the balding gentleman’s skin far less flush with intoxication than it had been at the Malfoy’s.

“Minister, to what do we owe this great honor?” Orion asked behind him, his previously light tone having taken on an edge he was used to hearing in Elia’s words.

“Oh, Hello there Rosier, I didn’t see you.” Fudge muttered almost self consciously, his eyes flitting around to land anywhere but on Orion.

“An easy mistake I’m sure,” the tall man responded with a tight smile. The awkward air increased but neither Orion nor Hannah made any move to remove themselves from the conversation.

Ed finally broke the silence. “Did you need something Minister?”

Fudge’s gaze snapped up to his, practically flinched as he was caught in Ed’s golden gaze. “Ah, yes, you are needed inside the house the will reading is to begin shortly.” the Minister swallowed, glancing at Elia beside him. “You, and Ms. Rosier.”

“We’ll be along in a moment,” Elia respond, acting as if she too had no idea of the thick tension in the air.

“Quite,” the man said, and with an awkward little nod he turned and hurried quickly away.

“A shining example of choosing the lesser of two evils,” Orion said shaking his head, his words almost bemused. “That election season was a nightmare, a Death Eater hunting fanatic or a Spineless Idiot.” his wife gave a quiet hum of agreement, and Ed could only look on wondering exactly what it was he was talking about.

“Should we go?” He asked, looking to Elia for confirmation. She nodded, and after a quick farewell to the Rosier’s, they made their way back across the yard to the house.

“Fudge and your family not get along?” he asked quietly as they walked.

“Our name commands a certain amount of respect in this world, but it’s politically a bit of a taboo. The Rosier’s made a name for themselves building up and tearing down politicians. My father backed Fudge over Crouch when he ran for Minister, and any time he sees us, or any of his other “backers” who just didn’t want to see Crouch in power, he’s reminded of how easily it could be taken away from him. It’s not good feeling for a man like Fudge.”

“Handouts are never free.” Ed murmured remembering something Mustang had once taught him.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, just, he was stupid to think people were putting him in office because they actually wanted him as a leader. Leader’s don’t get elected by sponsors, only figureheads do.” Elia gave a small snort of laughter.

“And how do you suppose leaders get elected then?”

Ed didn’t hesitate before answering coldly. “By crawling over the bodies of anyone who dared to get in their way. If there’s no one left to compete with, you guarantee your seat regardless of how much the “gentry” like you.”

Elia raised an eye at him and shook her head. “You, my friend have a terribly cynical view of government.”

“Can you blame me.” Ed muttered.”I’ve been drowning in military men since I was twelve.”

The two reentered the house to the curious eyes onlookers, eager to see who would be getting a piece of the Flamel fortune.

“Oh, Edward!” Fudge called to him from the mouth of the hallway leading to Flamel’s office. “Over here my dear boy!”

Ed had to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes at the use of the term of endearment, like they hadn’t officially met only moments ago. However he did share a side-eyed glace with Elia, and it was clear her exasperation matched his own.

Ed did a double take as he entered the Master’s workspace at the enormous woman standing in the corner. She must have stood more than ten feet tall, and gave Ed the impression that if he stood too close he would be crushed. Instead, Ed moved to the other side of the room by a withered older man who somehow managed to only look only a few years younger than Flamel had.

Fudge closed the door behind Elia, closing in the five- no six of them. In his surprise at the appearance of the giant woman, he had missed Bones seated behind the Master’s desk, his case sitting locked on its surface.

“Now then, our Minister has volunteered to serve as the witness for the reading of the combined wills of Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel, whose possessions are to be divided among the bodies, organizations, or individuals you represent. Do you all understand?” Each of them nodded in turn, and Bones removed a small stack of parchment from his case. It seemed funny that contained within those few pages was the summation of the Flamel’s entire lives in the eyes of the state.

 _“To The Potion Master Guild of Europe and North America, we a lot all research journals of green binding, any remaining ingredients from our personal store, as well as ten percent of our remaining funds.”_ The elderly wizard beside Ed smiled and nodded, accepting a card from Bones.

 _“To Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, we bequeath the entire collection of books found in our large library, as well as forty percent of our remaining funds. Additionally, to the current headmaster/headmistress, we present our four-hundred-year gold golden telescope to be found in the lab.”_ The giant woman bent down and also accepted a card from the lawyer, giving a murmured word of thanks in a heavily accented voice.

 _“To The Rosier Family, we present the land and home we’ve spent many years living on besides members of your extraordinary family. In addition, we present forty-five percent of our remaining wealth as an award for your years of devoted service. To Elia Rosier, we present the entirety of the rare and endangered plant seed store and garden we have amassed over the years.”_ Elia stepped forward straight-backed, but Ed could have sworn her hand was shaking as she accepted her card.

 _“To Edward Elric, we leave to contents of our fully equipped Alchemy lab, with the exception of one previously mentioned telescope, as well as all research journals of a gold binding.”_ Ed following the lead of the others stepped forward and accepted his card from Bones, his head fuzzy at the thought of unrestricted access to Flamel’s Alchemy lab, and even more so, the promise of what was hidden away inside the gold-bound research journals.

“Is that everything Bones?” the minister asked, a smile on his face as if he'd attended a sports match rather than a will reading.

“Almost everything, the last recipient of the will, one Albus Dumbledore was unable to attend, and will be given his allotment at a later time.”

Cornelius frowned. “Now see here Bones-”

“Headmaster Dumbledore is a very busy man as I’m sure you well know Minister, there is nothing in the will that prevents him from getting his allotment at a later time, so that is what will be done.” Bones leveled his cold gaze on the minister, the rounder man seemed to shrink under it. “If that is all?” Bones turned and exited the room, leaving the five standing alone in a dead man's office, with only their new possessions in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Turkey Day!


	23. Blackbird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo here's my fun little disclaimer about this chapter, The ending is kinda fucked up. This story hasn't been especially dark, so I feel the need to give you all a heads up about it. If you don't do gore very well, the scene starts at "Old magic flowed through this land..." and goes to the end of the chapter, I'll give a brief summary at the end if you skipped.

Pyxis tapped his long finger against the table, the cowering man before him flinching with each hit. “You're sure it’s him?”

“Yes, Sir.” the man said shaking his head up and down frantically. “I’m certain of it!”

Rosier frowned as he looked at his memory swirling around the pensive, the Elric boy’s scowling face reflecting back at him. “So certain you would stake your life on it Brown?” he said, pausing in his tapping. “Because that’s what you’ll be paying with you know.” He stood and walked around the side of the table, using his wand to draw the man's head up to meet his gaze. “Eventually that is, I doubt the Dark Lord will make it quick.” the man whimpered. “Now, for the sake of both of us, I suggest you look at that image again and tell me if you are positive that it’s him.”

The man half stumbled half crawled to where the pensive sat. For a long moment he did nothing, and then, the man looked up, a ghost of conviction in his eyes, and nodded. “I’m sure.”

\---

The Rozier home was different, to say the least. Located out in the English countryside, it was much bigger than the Flamel’s farm had been. However, unlike with the Malfoy’s, the massive house’s size was well deserved. Other than Elia, who seemed just as out of place in her own home as Ed was, she had three older sisters, a brother-in-law, and two younger cousins currently residing there. But, unlike with the Weasley’s, the Rosier’s seemed to lack the feeling of constant chaos that had permeated Grimmauld Place.

Carina and Lyra had graduated from Beauxbatons like their mother, the previous year, and it seemed Elia’s sisters had taken to heart the lessons of social grace the academy taught. Perenelle had told Ed about her days there fondly, painting a vivid image of the French school in his mind. Mona, The eldest, however, had chosen to attend her father's alma mater, and like the other members of her household had been Slytherin. Having been a first year during the final year of Voldemort's reign, Hogwarts hadn’t been the kindest place for her to attend school. The children and relatives of those who had died, saw the Slytherins as nothing more than young Death Eater’s, regardless of if they had sided with The Dark Lord at all. Her sister’s seeing her unhappiness had then opted to go to France for school.

Mona had met her husband there, a fellow Slytherin and half-blood, Christopher Pierce, and had two kids with him. Waist high little monsters, that made Ed feel sympathy for his own mother every time the two of them came tearing down the hall, the younger one following after his older brother like he held the answers to the universe in his hands. And, if Ed was judging correctly, Mona was roughly three months away from adding another child to the mix.

It was a nice sort of chaos, not as manic as Fred and George's constant explosions, but enough to fill the house with life.

Ed was itching to break open the journals he had inherited, eager to see what it was Flamel had figured was so important to know. Elia had explained to him that he only needed to tap the card Bones had given him three times, and everything allotted to him would be instantly delivered to his location. Ed had been tempted to jump right into the research, but unsure of what exactly he had inherited, and he hesitated to access it in such a public living space.

So instead of throwing himself into Flamel's words, he spent hour after hour, in the Rosier’s floor to ceiling library. Reading everything from history to theory to fairytales, immersing himself in this world. He was going to be on his own very shortly, and as helpful as The Order and Flamel had been to his magical education. He wouldn’t be able to hold his own in a casual conversation if he couldn’t understand the culture. It didn’t matter how much paperwork Bones faked for him if his own ignorance gave up the ghost.

Ed began dividing Sirius’s book up, shoving in pages of additional notes the book’s magic bound into their proper place, and separating the book into not just information on how to get home, but politics, art, and geography. Every day Ed retreated into the stacks, only returning to the outside world if summoned for a meal, desperate to learn as much as he could it what time he had.

Because that was the truth of it. Everything was finite, and Ed didn’t know when his time would run out. If he didn’t build a base now, every twist and turn to come would knock him off his feet and leave him in the dirt.

“Ed.” someone called his name, but he was too absorbed in his book to notice. “Hey, Ed.” he flipped the page, skimming through the account of Grindelwald's uprising. “Edward Elric.” nothing. “Okay, this is getting ridiculous.” someone muttered, and footsteps approached. Ed gave a loud cry of displeasure as his book was magically ripped from his hands and suspended over his head.

“What?” he grumbled over at where Elia stood, looking unimpressed by his outrage.

“Mom need’s someone to check the mail over at the Flamel house, and Mona’s already asked me to watch the kids.”

“So you volunteered me to do it,” Ed responded dryly.

She shrugged helplessly. “I’ve got things to do, and besides, you’ve got to get outside sometime. You’re starting to resemble a ghost.” Ed frowned.

“Fine.”

She grinned at him, something Ed still found a little off-putting. “Thanks,” she turned around with a flourish flicking her wand as she went. Ed only had to wonder for a second what spell she had cast, before the large book he had been absorbed in smashed down on his head from above.

\---

The Flamel place hadn’t changed physically since he had left, but it still managed to feel dimmer, like the color had been bleached out of the earth. The familiar hum of magic was disturbingly missing, creating an off-putting tension in Ed’s gut. Elia had been doing her best to keep Perenelle’s garden together, but even her years alongside the woman hadn’t been enough to prepare her for taking full care of the expanse of rare magical plants.

The mailbox only held a few letters, most of it junk. Ads and fliers asking for donations, the kind of publication that wouldn’t notice if the person they were being sent to died. A few of the letters were addressed to the Rosier’s in official ministry stationary, likely having to do with the newly acquired land. Those Ed pocketed to hand off to Hannah when he got back to the house, the rest he tossed in the fireplace where he had come through, the Rosier’s having connected the house to the Floo network.

Ed sighed, and stepped outside again relaxing into the cool evening air. Perhaps Elia was right and he had been inside too long. Almost without conscious thought, Ed’s feet began carrying him across the grounds almost the same route he had taken when Flamel had summoned him for their late night talk. Ed slowed to a halt as he reached the top of the small hill he had been climbing.

The Flamel gravestones stood out as a stark contrast to the surrounding land. Heavy black marble dark against the painted sky of the sunset. Ed shook his head as his eyes fell on the pale numbers dictating the couple's birth and death dates, he couldn’t even imagine what’d it be like to live that long. And in the Master’s case, he’d been alive longer than the Wizards even knew, all the years he’s spent searching for a solution in Xerxes.

With a sigh, Ed lowered himself to the ground, the damp grass slowing soaking through his pants. “You might have been a real bastard Flamel, but I’m still thankful to you,” Ed muttered, reclining all the way back so he could watch the emerging stars. Slowly but surely Ed could feel his eyelids growing heavier, and with the wind blowing just so, and with the stars above his head he could almost pretend he was on Teacher’s island with Al.

\---

His soul had gone through the gate again, that much was clear as he glanced around his surroundings. But unlike the last few times, it was not Greed’s gang he found himself with, but Mustang’s. Or what was left of it. It was almost sad walking around Mustang’s once lively office and seeing nothing but bureaucracy in its place.  
“Excuse me, Corporal,” Ed spun around at the sound of the familiar voice. Riza Hawkeye stared evenly down the young soldier that had taken Havoc’s old desk.

“Yes ma’am!” he said leaping to his feet, tripping over part of his desk in his rush to stand and salute.

“Is Colonel Mustang in?”

“Yes Ma’am!” the Corporal squicked, and Ed could almost see the lieutenant internally rolling her eyes at his enthusiasm. “He’s in his office, Ma’am.”

“Thank-”

“I could show you to his office, Ma’am?”

Hawkeye gave him a polite smile. “No thank you, Corporal, I think I can make it on my own.” The young soldier’s face turned beet red as she turned to walk to Mustang’s office.

She rapped three times on the door before Mustang answered tiredly. “Come in.”

Hawkeye pushed the door in, and Ed followed her inside. Mustang looked exhausted, and if the state of his uniform was anything to go by, the only sleep he’d gotten in the last few days was at this desk. “Lieutenant Hawkeye, to what do I owe the honor?”

“Paper’s from the Fuhrer Sir,” she said handing him a manila file he added to the positively mountainous pile of unfinished paperwork. Something she quickly noticed and raised an eye at.

“I swear it’s a conspiracy,” he muttered exasperatedly, carding his fingers through his hair. “I've got double the paperwork and half the staff these days!”

“I doubt it, Sir,” she said, though all of them- noncorporeal souls included - knew it really was probably the case. “It’s probably only that, for the first time in your career you're completely responsible for your own work.”

Mustang narrowed his eye’s clearly catching the slight. “Always a pleasure Lieutenant,” he muttered.

“Sir,” Ed watched her leave through the door, noting the odd way the shadows seemed to cling to her.

As soon as the office door latched Mustang grabbed the file she had left for him. Ed moved to the side of the desk to see what it was that had Mustang’s face so twisted up and bitter looking. “Dammit!” he hissed and tossed the file on the desk. Ed leaned over the Colonel’s shoulder his eyes widening at the sight of pictures that had slipped out. _Baschool?_ The mining town looked exactly like Ed remembered it, decrepit and snow covered buildings taking up most of the images. But the others… There was no mistaking the mine shaft he and Kimblee had fought in and subsequently destroyed.

“Come on kid, where are you?” Ed turned to his superior with wide eyes. Him? Were they looking for him? Last he’d heard he’d been declared a fugitive of the state when his Alchemy funds had been touched, he’d been hiding out with Greed and the others ever since… did Mustang not know?

No, that wasn’t right. Maybe he didn’t know who he was with specifically, but he had to have known he’d have gotten away. Mustang had enough ears out, that even if the up tops were trying to keep it hushed up, he would have found out.

The details, that must have been it. Bradley had taken away all his other allies, but at least he knew where they were. Him though… he and Al were a major part of Mustangs plans and the Colonel didn’t know where they had ended up. That fit. He was worried about the logistics of the plan, unable to have first-hand confirmation that Ed and Al were in position. That made sense.

Ed felt an odd sense of relief at coming up with a justification for Mustang’s response. Because if it wasn’t plan based, well, Ed didn’t want to think about the implications of him having an actual emotional impact on the man.

Another knock came at the door and Mustang scooped the file up and slid it into his desk, before calling for the knocker to come in. Even as the greying Warrant Officer entered the room, Ed could feel the pull of the Gate calling him back to his body.

“See you around Bastard,” Ed said, throwing up a wave as he made to exit the office before the black hands yanked him in against his will. “I’ll see you on the promised day.” he paused, searching for something more to say. “Don’t worry, I still remember the 520 Cenz I owe you.”

\---

Old magic flowed through this land, Harry thought. But tonight, not even the oldest magic would keep him from getting what he wanted. Nor the oldest blood, he thought as he strode among the corpses. Normally, the spilling of so much Pure-Blood would be such a terrible waste, but tonight, Tonight he could make an exception.

“I hesitate to call them blood traitors, for fear of tarnishing my own name,” Pyxis said, casually disposing of his blood-spotted gloves, a woman laying slashed open at his feet.

“Have you heard any word on where our golden eyed friend might have gotten off to?” Harry murmured as he took in the casual destruction surrounding him with an approving nod.

“Unfortunately not, my Lord. Most of the household perished in the fighting.” he frowned. “against my wishes of course. But once the first of ours fell, the men seemed… less inclined to show restraint.”

“I see.”

“Those who did survive.” he nudged the corpse with his foot. “Like my dear niece Lyra here, haven't felt much up for talking.”

“Was she the last of the survivors?”

“No, we’ve still got one left. But,” Pyxis shrugged. “If worst comes to it, we can always wait for the boy to return. One of my men discovered evidence the fireplace had been recently used.”

“Very well.” Harry nodded. “But first I will speak to our last guest personally, and see if we can’t loosen their lips some.”

“Of course My Lord, right this way.”

Harry glided over the carnage after Rosier, taking in the sight of the various broken bodies lining the hall. A thin man sat slumped against a wall, Orion Rosier, that one he knew. He looked far less dignified with his neck broken than he had in life. A few feet away lay his wife, the killing curse for her it seemed, skin unbroken as if she had simply decided to lay down.

Another man sat leaning against the main stairway, he was soaked in blood from head to toe, his face with an odd sag to it. He had been one of the survivors then. Another victim of the killing curse was a young woman laying on the landing, her belly swollen with a future life that would never be.

He located two more of the house's residents by the main door, boy’s both of them. The larger one on top like he had been trying to shield his brother from the blast that had killed them. It hadn't done much if their broken bodies were anything to judge by. A little ways away was another young woman who had clearly been interrogated, her eye’s glazed and staring blankly forward. She looked as if she might have once been lovely, but the skin on her neck and face spoke of fiery kisses from the end of one of his Death Eaters wands. Bubbled and melting, her flesh looked like a piece of meat left to long over the flames.

“Over here my Lord,” Rosier said directing him towards what once must have been a fine kitchen. Against the far wall of cabinets was girl, flanked by one of his Death Eaters on either side. Her breathing was ragged, and her dark hair mixed with more blood than just hers. Her dark skin dusted in the fog or ruptured flour bags that filled the room. She pushed off the ground so she was sitting, facing him dead on.

“Finished with the rest of the have you.” She hissed, her dark eyes cutting in a way that would have struck fear in a weaker man. In fact, Harry could feel some of his Death Eaters flinch behind him. The whole of the attack force having filled in to watch the show. All those men and women who had let his prize go in the first place, whose continued existence relied on the outcome of this night.

“Now, now Elia,” Pyxis spoke from behind him. “Be a good girl and make this easier for everyone, wouldn’t you like to see your family again?”

“Fuck. You.” she hissed, baring her blood-stained teeth at him.

Pyxis gave a mock sigh, Harry could see he was enjoying himself. “And you were so polite only a few weeks ago.”

“Enough,” he said raising a hand as the girl made to lunge, only to be thrown backward by one of her guards.

Harry took a step closer to her, looking down at her pitiful crumpled form. “Where is the golden-eyed boy.”

“Like I would ever tell you.” she spat at the hem of his robes.

Harry raised his wand. “Crucio,” he said dispassionately. For a moment he just let her writhe before he opened his mouth and asked his question again. “Where is the golden-eyed boy.”

“No.”

“Crucio.”

“Never.”

“Crucio.”

“I won’t!”

“Crucio.” She let out a soundless scream and buckled, her body twisting and shifting as she tried to find the energy to sit up. “Where is the golden-eyed boy?”

She opened her mouth to say something but no sound came out. She frowned and tried to speak again, this time sound emerged but her voice was too muffled by the flood to hear. Pointing his wand and her chest he drew her upward to face him, her head lolling to the side and one arm shakily drawing patterns in her blood.

Sudden she froze and drew her head up, their eyes locking again, showing him just how dark her irises were. “Got you,” she said, her face splitting into a blood coated grin and her hand made contact with the bloody patterns she’d been drawing. Harry only had a moment to realize the danger, before the world around him exploded and was consumed in fire.

The last thing Harry knew before jerking upright in bed, was Elia Rosier's dying laugh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you skipped the last bit: Pyxis lead Voldemort and the other Death Eaters present at Ed's summoning to the Rosier household and killed everyone but Elia, who was interrogated about Ed's whereabouts. She then used a transmutation circle to ignite the flour dust in the kitchen she was held in and caused an explosion, killing herself in the process.
> 
> This was something I knew was coming for a while, but it still sucked to write.  
> Best wishes,  
> -Pree


	24. Smoke and Blood

Sirius lept to his feet as a muffled scream echoed along the upper floor of his house. Remus was at his side in a moment, his mug of coffee forgotten on the dining room table. The two shared a glance before charging up the stairwell to where the boys slept, wands drawn.

“Harry! Ron! Is everything alright?!” the door to the boy’s room was tossed open, and Ron stood in the doorway pale as a ghost.

“Harry- he, uh-” Ron stumbled over his words as the two dashed towards him. Sirius pushed past him to reach his godson while Remus pulled Ron off to the side.

“Harry! Harry, are you alright?”

His godson was half collapsed along the side of his bed, clutching at his chest as he pulled in breaths in a rapid and irregular fashion. His face was pale and waxy looking, and his hair and clothes were damp with sweat. Sirius dropped to his knees beside him, and placed a hand on his forehead, checking for fever.

“Easy, Harry, easy. Just breath, I’m here now. Like that.”

The boy fisted his hand tightly in Sirius’s shirt, his other he wrapped shakily around his forearm. Sirius waited until Harry’s breathing had evened out some before pulling him into a solid hug, careful not to squeeze tightly. After a moment he felt his shoulder begin to dampen and pulled him more squarely into his arms. Quietly he rocked them back and forth on the floor, rubbing light circles on Harry’s back.

“They’re dead,” Harry said quietly into Sirius’s shoulder, his voice sounding hollow. The boy didn’t resist as Sirius pulled them apart as his eyes met his godson's.

“Harry, what do you mean? Who's dead?”

Harry gave a weak shrug and shook his head. “I don’t know. Just… He was looking for someone.”

“He?” Sirius asked, “He? Do you mean Voldemort?” Harry flinched a little at the name.

“I was in his head,” he said looking up at Sirius with wide eyes. “He doesn't feel human.”

Sirius broke out of the freeze that had overcome him, and lunged forward, wrapping Harry in his arms tightly. “It’s okay Harry, we’ll figure it out.” Harry accepted the hug limply, exhausted. “I promise. I promise.”

\---

“Rosier Manor,” Ed said, tossing a handful of floo powder into the fireplace. The flame’s glowed green for a moment before sputtering and returning to their normal orange glow,

“What the...” Ed muttered, frowning down at the fire. “Rosier Manor.” He said, louder this time. Again the flames sputtered and quaked, but failed to hold. With a wave of his wand, he extinguished the blaze and exited out the house's main door.

It had to be an issue with the newly established connection, a fluke in the department of transportation. The nearest fireplace he knew of was the one in town Elia had brought them through when he had first met the Master. If he wanted to get to the pub before it closed for the night he’d better hurry.

“Edvard!” the pub owner exclaimed in his thick German accent as Ed all but threw open his door. “Was machst du hier? Es ist spät.”

Ed hurriedly apologized for his late appearance as he moved over to where the fireplace sat, waving off the owner's questions as he went. “Rosier Manor,” he said tossing the powder into the flames. Again, they flickered green and back to orange.

“sieht aus, als hättest du dort eine lockere Verbindung.” The owner said wrapping his knuckles against the edge of the mantle.

"A loose connection?" Ed wondered aloud. "What does that mean?"

The man explained to him that the connection could be bad if the fireplace on the other side had been damaged, or taken offline.

He frowned, feeling the hair rise on the back of his neck, something wasn’t right about this. The Rosiers had at least three fireplaces that he had seen within the house, it didn’t make sense for them to all be randomly offline at the same time. But why would they be damaged…?

Ed froze in place, dark thoughts and ideas flowed to the forefront of his imagination.

He needed to get back.

What was the name? What was the name? Ed wracked his head for the name of the neighbor Elia had mentioned in passing, pacing in front of the fireplace. Oversized hat, smelled like tobacco, a million and one cats… Was it something with a C… Carrow? Carol? Carter? Carter! He’d seen the woman's house on a walk with Mona’s kids, buried back in the hills behind the Rosier land.

“Carter, the house in the hills.” He said, his hand shaking as he tossed a handful of powder into the fire. As soon as it hit the flame it burned green, and Ed let out a breath of relief as he stepped inside, but even that did little to counteract the growing uneasiness in his gut.

\---

“Tell us what you saw then Harry.” Professor Lupin gave him an easy smile, but Harry could see the strain in his eyes.

“I- It was just like with Ron’s dad,” Harry said, he could feel Sirius tense beside him, his godfather's restless energy filling the room. “I mean, It was different, I wasn’t a snake. I was-” he hesitated. “It was like I was in Voldemort's head.” He stopped there, shifting and considering his words, rearranging them so he was closer to an observer of the event, rather than an active participant, a thought that still made his stomach turn. But, he couldn't bear the looks of hatred and disgust he was sure to see if he told them the truth. Told them, that he had felt every rush of power as He- no Voldemort had tortured that girl, and worse still, that he'd liked it. “One of the Death Eater’s, someone named Rosier called him.”

Sirius hummed quietly beside him. “He was in Azkaban when I was, his wife got away though. Real nasty fellow.”

Harry shook his head. “He’s insane,” he said, almost in awe. “He killed his family, all of them.” his hands shook as he pictured the broken bodies of the Rosier’s littered across the floor.

“I didn’t think he had any family,” Sirius said with a frown. “At least nothing immediate. Just the wife.”

“I don’t think they were, he called one of the bod- bodies niece,” Harry said swallowing the bitter taste that rose in his mouth. "But the way he said it, it wasn't like he was talking about anyone he cared about. He didn't even hate her, he just felt nothing."

“Do you know why they were there?” Professor Lupin asked gently.

“They wouldn’t have called for Voldemort, for something as common as a murder,” Sirius said bitterly, though Harry got the impression his godfather wasn’t aware he’d spoken out loud.

“They were looking for someone,” Harry said. “A golden-eyed boy.” Both men froze.

“A golden-eyed boy?” Sirius said slowly, “Did they say anything else? Anything that could tell us who exactly they’re looking for?”

“Uh,” Harry searched through the volatile memories for any mention of a name. “The Death Eaters, the ones that were present, they let him go." He frowned, "No, that's not right. They let him get away.” Harry froze faint memories of previous dreams flowing back to the forefront of his mind. “He was angry at them. Really, really angry. They were supposed to keep him there for him but he got away…”

“Yes and?”

“And, Voldemort, I remember, he said-” Harry turned to face his godfather in confusion, “He said the Order had him.”

Sirius cursed loudly and Remus winced.

“What? What is it?” Harry said rising to his feet. “Do you know who it is?”

Sirius paced back and forth running his fingers through his long hair. “Remus, get a message to the others,” he said, not looking at his godson.

“Sirius? What’s happened?” Harry asked his voice almost frantic, as he absorbed the anxiety of the two men. “Who is it?”

Sirius stopped walking and drew a breath. “It’s Ed Harry, he’s looking for Ed.”

\---

Ed back out of Mrs. Carter’s living room, a fake smile plastered across his face as he rambled out apologies and excuses for appearing so suddenly in her fireplace. With a loud crack, the irate witch slammed the door in his face the moment he was through the frame. Letting out a sigh Ed set himself determinedly facing the Rosier home and began walking.

The night wind ghosted through the long grass, their tops just brushing the tips of his gloved fingers. The Moon shone down on him through the low grey clouds, a far cry from the clear skies he had left. Ed frowned, the sky grew darker the closer he grew to the main road, and again the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention. He increased his pace almost without thinking, quicker and quicker until the tall grass blurred on either side of him as he ran.

The familiar scent of smoke filled his senses and with it, a cold dread. Clouds of black vapor rolled over the hills, his lungs burned as he made his way up the last hill standing between him and the Rosier’s.

For a moment as he reached the crest of the hill all he could see was red. In his brief pause in motion, his heavy automail tangled in the grass underfoot sending him crashing to the ground. His metal elbow caught him in the gut as he fell, knocking the air from his lungs. He was helpless to stop himself as he tumbled down the slope. For a moment he lay there gasping, drawing painful breath after painful breath. His first breath drawing more smoke than air.

Drawing his hand up over his mouth he made to stand, but never made it past his knees, stunned by the violent display before him. The Rosier Manor was engulfed in flames, it’s ancient halls crumbling, and it’s wall's groaning where part of the roof had given in. Ed’s took in the sight before him blankly, unable to quite comprehend what had happened. The destruction reflected back in Ed’s golden eyes, his normally striking gaze mixing with the colors of the inferno.

“No.” He murmured quietly, staggering to his feet, paying no heed to the heat of the blaze as he stepped closer. “No, no, no.” A loud crash and part of the wall fell in just to his right. “Elia?” his voice broke. “Elia where are you? Orion? Mrs. Hannah? Anyone?” the night wind carried the flames to the grass, filling the air around him with white smoke as the damp grass around him burned.

With a hacking cough Ed stumbled backward, drawing his wand up shakily, he cast a quick bubble-head charm sealing out the toxic air. As Ed righted himself, raising his foot to take another step forward, deep within the crumbling house the flames reached a room of priceless and very magical artifacts. And, as the flames devoured them, their magic escaped outward in a blast of awesome force that threw Ed and much of the outer wall he was facing violently backward. With wide eyes, Ed hit the ground, the back of his head connecting solidly with the hard ground, his last image of consciousness, a burning sky.

\---

Ed lay still as consciousness returned slowly to him. A light snow fell around him, mixed almost indistinguishably with ash. There was a coldness seeping into his bones, as the fresh snow chilled his metal limbs. A weak crash sounded somewhere to his left, and Ed rolled his head to look.

The Rosier manor was all but a skeleton. A few walls still stood so you could make out where hallways had once been, and the bare bones of the grand staircase remained, leading to nowhere.

Something dripped warmly down his face, Ed couldn’t tell if it was a tear or blood. The boy heaved himself upright, and slowly limped towards the lightly sizzling remains. The front door had somehow remained intact, despite the wall around having been lost. Ed’s hand closed around the doorknob almost reverently, it’s metal scorched black.

Ed stumbled over the remains of a chandelier, burnt and melted around the edges. He watched absently as one of its bobbles rolled away over the charred ground, coming to rest suddenly on a tiny shoe.

Ed braced himself against the wall as his knees threatened to give out, frozen as his eyes wandered the forms of the two boys, burned and blackened beyond recognition. His eyes went glassy.

It wasn’t as if he’d never seen a body before, even burned bodies were nothing new. Working with the Flame Alchemist guaranteed as much. He remembered that first time now, almost like a dream as he stumbled deeper into the house. It had been one of his first cases, dealing with some rogue Alchemist from the South. He’d been… killing officers, that’s right. Sneaking into the dorms in Central and setting them ablaze, alchemically sealing them in so they couldn’t run. He’d never seen those bodies. That was back in the days, where people were still horrified at the thought of a 12-year-old soldier. The nearest he’d gotten to them, was unsealing the dorms so the soldiers could retrieve the dead. He hadn’t seen them, but he could still remember what it smelled like.

He’d gotten lucky in the end. Cornered the man in some back alley on the bad side of town. Far from people in an attempt to minimize casualties. He’d thought he’d won, it never occurred to him he could have had partners.

Mustang had gotten there just in time.

He’d been in Central, just passing through on his way back East. Thought he’d come see how he was doing. When Mustang hadn’t been able to locate him, one of the men from investigations had pointed him in Ed’s direction, gave the Colonel the same bullshit story he’d feed them so they would drop the honor guard they’d been supplying him with all day.

Mustang had figured it out though. He knew that Ed wasn’t just stopping to talk with somebody-who-knew-somebody-who-knew-something, or whatever it was he’d said he was doing. He knew Ed well enough by then for that.

He’d burned all five men to a crisp and picked Ed of the ground like a rag doll, careful of his broken arm, and drove him to the hospital.

They never really talked about that. But now as Ed stood, staring down at the bodies of the people who had taken him in, who had treated him right when there was no need to, all he could think of were the screams of the men as Mustang burned them alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... It's technically not Thursday yet where I live, so theoretically this chapter isn't late. But... yeah, Midterms kinda snuck up on me, so the next couple updates might be a little sporadic and shorter.


	25. A Blackened Cenz

Pieces of broken glass and charred wood cracked under Sirius’s feet as he walked among the burned out remains of the Rosier Manor. Even with Harry’s dream to warn them, The Order had only just barely managed to beat the ministry to the house. Kingsley had called a couple of his contacts inside and managed to get the suits to back off long enough for them to get a good look at the place, but Sirius doubted they would have any better luck than the Ministry workers.

Something shiny caught his eye in the rubble and he bent down to retrieve it. For a second his heart froze as he recognized what he held, only then to be filled with overwhelming sadness. It was one of those funny little coins of Ed’s, a Cenz, he thought he called them. Charred, burned and blackened, not much different than its owner he imagined. Something broke behind him and Sirius whipped around, dropping Ed’s coin in his pocket.

“Easy there.” Came Moody’s gruff voice, the man's frown deeper set than usual.

“What’s wrong?” Sirius asked, taking a step towards him.

“We found bodies.” And there was that chill again, tightening around his heart. “A lot of them.”

“Where?”

“Around back.”

Sirius Frowned, “from the battle?”

“No,” Moody said, with a shake of his head. “All laid out in a line like someone put them on display.”

“The Death Eaters? As a warning?”

If possible, Moody’s frown grew even deeper. “I don’t think so.”

“What? Why?”

“Like I said, there are a lot of bodies.” he paused. “Far too many for just the Rosier’s”

“What are you saying?” Sirius said, taking another step forward.

“I’m saying, I think someone beat us here.”

Sirius’s eyes darkened. “Show me.”

The bodies we lined up on the edge of the burned grass, shoulder to shoulder. Some still bearing traces of their identities, others completely indistinguishable from store window dummies. The two smallest bodies, in all likeliness Mona and Christopher Peirce’s children, were fused together. A few could be made out as Death Eaters, remnants of their silver masks melted to their faces. While one of the larger bodies carried a heavy signet ring on his hand, marking him to be Orion Rosier. The others though…

Sirius froze for a moment. The metal. The metal remained despite the flames. Quickly he stalked up and down the line of bodies searching for a glimpse of metal where an arm or leg should have gone. If there wasn’t- then Ed couldn’t-

“Sirius?” his friend straightened from where he had been clearing off the freshly fallen snow from a body. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for Ed.” He answered tersely as he continued to search among the bodies.

“Sirius.” Remus’s voice was quiet. “Sirius you know there isn’t much hope of identifying him in this condition, we’ll just have to wait until St. Mungo’s can give them all a proper look over.”

Sirius shook his head, not really listening, and grinned. “He’s no here.”

“Sirius-”

“Look!” he said with a wave of his hands. “He’s not here! He’s alive Remus!”

“Sirius-”

“Christ, where could he have got off too? Do you think he’s the one who laid out all the bodies?”

“Sirius look at me!” Remus hissed, the frail man grabbed him by his shoulders and gave him a shake. “We don’t know that!” his friend released him and glanced away. “I mean, Jesus, I want him to be alive as much as you do. But we don’t have any proof!”

Sirius opened his mouth to spit about the obvious solution of looking for Ed’s Automail when he realized suddenly, Remus didn’t know.

“Remus, trust me please,” he said trying to placate his friend,

Remus reached out resting his hands on Sirius' forearms. “I do,” he said. “I do Sirius. Just-”

“Remus, just trust me. I’ll- I’ll explain later. Just believe me when I say, none of these bodies are Ed’s.” Remus nodded, but Sirius could see he wasn’t entirely convinced. It hurt, but he’d grown used to the pitying looks people gave him these days.

“Do we know how The Dark Lord knew he was here?” Moody asked as he appeared over one of the grassy hills. “Even Dumbledore didn’t know what happened to him after Flamel died. He just up and vanished.”

“When I brought Ed to the safe house for pickup.” Kingsley spoke up from where he was examining the ruins, “I was met by an Elia Rosier. I admit I was wary of handing him over to someone with that name, and something about her put Edward off too. But Dumbledore confirmed for me that she was indeed who I was meeting.”

“So what? Are you telling me Flamel had a Rosier servant? I family with blood as pure as theirs would sooner die than take a job so menial.” Sirius scoffed, stepping away from Remus.

“Dumbledore said she was his apprentice,” Kingsley said.

Remus frowned. “Since when has Flamel ever taken apprentices? I always heard he was a bit of a recluse.”

“Aye,” Moody said with a growl. “That seems to be the consensus everywhere. The old man very rarely attended parties or any sort of social gathering-”

“Can’t fault him for that,” Sirius muttered.

“-And very rarely answered correspondence of any kind. But for some reason, he agreed to take Edward off our hands. However,” he said eyeing each of the men present. “Why is not especially important at the moment. More pressing is figuring out what the Dark Lord wants,” he paused, glancing at the corpses, “or wanted with him, and hopefully grabbing him before more unsavory parties do.”

\---

The hollow ticking echoed around Dumbledore’s office, further exaggerating the silence between the two men.

“And you’re sure the boy was not among the bodies?” Dumbledore asked the retired Auror, his frown deep set on his face. It wasn’t that he wanted the boy to be dead. No, he may have grown callus in his older years, but never enough that he would wish a child dead. But him missing… It drew questions. Had he been taken? Ran away? If Tom had him now, what was the purpose? Why was he so important?

_The things he’d seen inside that boy’s head…_

It had been nothing concrete. Flashes and wisps of memory he’d reviewed time and time again in the pensive. But even then they were blurred and faded. Not for him to see.

“Positive. Even if the metal hadn’t survived the blaze, none of the bodies were missing the right limbs.” Moody said. “I’m almost positive that Sirius knows about those limbs of his as well, his reaction to looking over the bodies was almost elated.

“That doesn’t surprise me, after all the time those two spent together it would be stranger if he didn’t know.”

“The stuff you got from Flamel, was there any mention of the kid in it?” Moody asked.

“No.” Dumbledore sighed. “My old friend Nicholas always inspired a particular kind of loyalty from the people around him. That lawyer, Bones, wouldn’t say so much as a word about Edward’s whereabouts… Normally I would commend his commitment, But if we had known about the Rosier’s beforehand perhaps…” he trailed off.

“I doubt it,” Moody said with a shake of his head. “The Rosier’s were dead either way, they would have gone after them regardless. Orion’s little girl knew the boy too well for them not to.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he said with a small nod of agreement. “I still wonder why Nicholas choice to reveal Edward? He can’t have thought it would end well.”

“I have a theory about that,” Moody grumbled.

“Yes?”

“I called in a few favors within the ministry- we know that Ed was one of the beneficiaries of Flamel’s will- I wanted to see how that was possible seeing as he doesn’t really exist.”

“And?”

“And, it turns out he does.”

“What do you mean by that?” Dumbledore said with a frown.

“I mean, Edward Elric of Saint Andrews, Scotland heir to the Hoenheim family, and apprentice to Nicholas Flamel is by all rights a flesh and blood human being.”

The headmaster narrowed his eyes. “That was most certainly not the case when young Edward first appeared months ago was it?”

“Aye. Someone's gone through and made him a real person.” Moody said

“Nicholas?”

He nodded in affirmation. “I think your friend and yourself have decidedly different definitions of hiding. You wanted him tucked away out of sight, Flamel wanted to put him in plan view.” Moody reached into his pocket and drew out a hard copy of Ed’s papers. “The records say he’s half-blood, but he’s still got one hell of a name behind him. At the very least, if the Dark Lord wants to continue to stay under the radar, it’ll be harder to touch him now.”

“Perhaps…” Dumbledore murmured. “However it works for our purposes in another way too.”

“How do you mean?”

“If Voldemort is searching for this ‘golden-eyed boy’ that was summoned like Harry says, he’s not going to be looking for someone who's been around for years.”

“You think Voldemort doesn’t already know who he is?”

Dumbledore smiled. “Harry didn’t. When he was in his head, he didn’t know who it was. So it stands to reason-“

“Headmaster.” Both men jerked their heads up as one of the ancient portraits called down to them from his perch high on the wall, “Mr. Moody best be going sir. That _toad_ is on her way up, and she looks to be on quite the tear.”

Both men unfroze, springing into action to avoid their meetings discovery. “Thank you for the warning Cambridge,” Dumbledore said climbing to his feet. With a flick of his wrist, he lit his fireplace, and Moody pulled out his bag of Floo powder. “We’ll discuss this later,” he said as Moody climbed into the flames. “for now I better see what it is she wants.”

\---

His soot-stained clothes and bleeding cuts had drawn few stares as he searched for a fireplace to access. The sky not quite red with dawn yet, and the birds not quite woken, left the world in an eerie empty silence that felt uncomfortably fitting for the loss he had just witnessed.

The Flamel’s door was ajar as he came up the main walk, and his fist closed around his wand preparing from what he might find. But, as he just gently pushed open the door he was only met by a familiar figure waiting for him among the furniture.

“I take it you know already?” Ed asked dryly, leaning against the doorframe. His chest ached with a pain that refused to let up.

“A terrible… tragedy.” he finished after a moment. “I’ve done business with the Rosier’s for many years.”

“And now they're gone.” Ed murmured dropping his head back and closing his eyes.

“Yes, and now they are gone.” the floorboards creaked as the man took a couple steps towards him. “But you, however, are not.”

“And what is it you’d have me do Bones? Because I sure as hell can’t think of anything.” Ed said, pushing off his resting place to face the thin lawyer.

“You can go home,” he said simply, settling his case on the dining room table.

“I beg your pardon?” Ed said, Thoughts of Al, Granny and Winry flashing through his mind without permission.

“The Hoenheim estate awaits its heir, Mr. Elric, you’ve been away quite a long time.”

Ed nodded. “Been away,” he mumbled to himself. “That’s funny.”

Ed drew a deep breath, that rattled in his chest as he released it. He was just hopping from one mess to the next, wasn’t he?

“Alright then, how do we get there?” Ed said, spreading his arms wide in an exaggerated gesture. He felt off-kilter and wrong like all the air had fled his lungs, and he found, he couldn’t quite bring himself to care about the blatant disrespect he was showing to the man before him.

“Well I hardly think your clothes will be any worse off with a trip through the fire, now will they?” Bones said, looking down at him over his long nose.

“Lead the way, Sir,” Ed said, with a wave of his hand.

Bones sent one last sharp look his way before reaching into the small pouch of Floo powder kept by the fireplace. “The Hoenheim Estate,” he spoke before stepping into the flames and vanishing. Only once the pull in his gut told him that Bones was really gone, did Ed allowing himself to collapse to the ground and cry.

\---

When Ed finally stepped out of the fireplace into his father's home, Bones made no mention of the delay. He only stood there, as if he had come through only moments ago, and for that, Ed was greatly appreciative.

“I’ve taken the liberty of having some of the houses protections renewed and strengthened to keep out any unwanted parties, but a good majority will be reactivated after your first night here, and the house recognizes you as the owner.” Ed nodded along, only briefly giving mind to how weird the idea of a house recognizing him would have been half a year ago. “There’s a basic perception spell on the outside that will keep people from noticing the house. You can strengthen and weaken based on personal preference. Unlike most old estates, yours does not include any Muggle Repellent Spells, but I’ve placed a spell on the front gates that should make anyone coming to investigate, suddenly remember The Manor is occupied and always has been.”

Ed nodded trying his best to keep track of everything as Bones listed out protection after protection. Most of them he recognized as ones the Flamel’s had, but a few still were new to him.

“You said you’d had the spells renewed, can whoever cast them take them down?” Ed wondered as he remembered all manner of spells that could force people to do things against their will.

“No, no, of course not. As a professional courtesy, spellcasters of the sort have their memories modified after the job. Nothing detrimental." he added seeing Ed's expression. "Just enough that it won't cause problems further down the road. With spells as complicated as these, it’s almost impossible to undo them if you can’t remember exactly how it has you managed them in the first place.”

Ed nodded, glancing around the cavernous room, feeling a bit as if he were about to be swallowed whole.

“Now, when you are feeling hungry, Saint Andrew’s itself as quite a few places to visit. But, if you have no interest in going out, Amah-” Ed jerked back as a loud crack rang out through the room. “Will fix anything you like.”

The small house elf looked up at him for a moment with impossibly large cobalt eyes, before dropping her gaze to the floor. Her rag dress was in decidedly better condition than either Sirius’s elf Kreacher's had been, or the bony looking one that had fed him when he was locked away in the Black Manor. She was young, but by elf standards, Ed had no idea what that meant.

“Uh, Hi?” Ed said awkwardly not really sure what to do with the creature's presence.

“Hello, Mr. Elric Sir.” She replied, still not looking at him, her voice high and shrill.

Bones gave a small cough, drawing Ed’s attention back to the lawyer. “Now Mr. Elric it is getting to be quiet late- well, early really- and I imagine you’ll be wanting to get settled.”

“Yes Sir,” Ed said quietly, torn between sending the man away and coming up for some reason to make him stay. He wasn't sure he really wanted to be alone right now.

“The Master bedroom is at the end of the hall up the center stairs. You’ll find that everything has been taken care of and that dossier I promised should find its way into your hands before tomorrow.”

Even as Ed nodded, the events of the day were catching up with him rapidly, and he could feel himself fading fast. Just barely hanging on. “Thank you.”

Bones nodded, sending him a small professional smile as he inclined his head, before turning and striding out the main door, his shoes echoing loudly with every step he took. Ed stood frozen and alone. The emptiness of the house almost suffocating.

“Do you need anything, Sir?” Ed had to resist the urge to jump again as Amah’s voice startled him from behind.

“I- no nothing, not tonight. Thanks though.” He said, finding he too couldn't stand to make eye contact with the small creature. She sent him a small pleased smile and with a bow disappeared again with a loud crack.

Walking across the floor, his uneven steps stood out against the silence. The second his foot hit the stairs he couldn’t help but take off running like a child scared of an invisible monster behind him. With each second that passed, he could feel the houses magic changing and adapting to him, tentatively probing at his magic as if to glen his intentions.

It was too much, it was all too much.

Ed couldn’t help but collapse in the center of the massive bed in the master suite. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he wrapped the thick comforter around himself and let out a sob.

For Orion and Hannah, their children and grandchildren, for the Flamel’s, for Elia, and for himself.

For himself, lost and alone, and very afraid of never getting home.

For himself, he cried himself to sleep.

And for himself, he woke the next morning with a fire in his eyes, and a sense of unwavering determination that told he would do anything to get home. Even if it meant _clawing_ open the gate with his own bare hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact for everyone: While the Rosier's in my story are all created for the purpose of this fic, there are really Rosier's in the Harry Potter books. While they are more mentioned in passing than anything, one, in particular, Evan Rosier was a Death Eater during the first wizarding war, and he was killed by one Alastor Moody. More interestingly, despite being a Slytherin, Evan actually choose to duel Moody to the death rather than attempt to save his own neck, something that completely contradicts Phineas Nigellus's assertion that a Slytherin will always choose to save his own life above all else. 
> 
> Oh, and he's the one who took off that big chunk of Moody's nose.


	26. Amah

Ed woke to the smell of freshly baked bread. Rather than the frankly haphazard way he had fallen asleep the previous night, he now found himself tucked under the covers of the giant bed, and the curtains on the windows drawn aside. The warm sunlight and comfort he lay in, created an odd disconnect in his mind. The stress and pain of the previous day contrasted so sharply with his current state that it left Ed in a sort of daze, as his mind attempted to comprehend what was going on around it.

Sliding out of bed, Ed found his shoes had been removed and tucked away by the door. A fresh change of clothes was folded neatly in a pile on the top of a nearby dresser, and following a light that flowed under a door to his left, Ed found a lavish bathroom, water already warm and drawn.

It wasn’t without suspicion that Ed removed his blackened clothes, but the allure of the warm bath was too much to pay his paranoia much heed. Ed watched as dirt and grim spread out through the water as he entered. Little specks of blood mingling with ash to turn the water grey. Just as Ed was about to climb out and abandon his attempt to get clean, the faucet at the end of the tub started up again, while the drain at the end opened. Flushing out the dirty water with an efficacy Ed hardy thought possible.

Carefully Ed relaxed back into the water, taking a bar of soap from the edge of the tub, he systematically scrubbed himself free of grime. When he had finished, with as much care as he could manage, he began attacking the dirt that had worked itself deep into the crevices of his automail. While he had been able to clean his automail of on occasion when he was with the Flamel’s, his lack of worry of being attacked meant he had never completed more than basic repairs on his equipment.

With the state it was in when he finally made it home, Winry was going to kill him. No doubt about it.

Ed hissed as his wet skin met the cold air as he climbed out of the tub. Quickly he grabbed hold of the nearest towel and bundled himself up tightly. His dirty clothes had vanished from where he had dropped them on the floor, as had any trance of the stains he should have left on the sheets the previous night.

Cautiously Ed picked up the spare change of clothes, choosing to accept the strangeness as it was and not think about it further. It was far too early in the morning for him to be contemplating all the laws of physics that had Bones' in such a short span of time.

For a moment Ed thought he could be holding clothes left from the last time the house was inhabited, the fineness of them such a sharp contrast to anything he himself would buy. But as he stood there holding them, he suddenly remembered with a fond roll of his eyes, the vests and button-downs Molly and Madam Malkin had bullied him into buying all those months ago. Bones must have grabbed them from the Flamel's for him, all his casual stuff had burned with the Rosiers.

He gave a little frown as the white dress shirt and vest hung looser around his left arm and waist than he remembered. He certainly hadn’t forgotten his fitness in his days in Germany, but Flamel had worked him so hard intellectually there had been no way to keep up with the training regimen he'd kept in Amestris. Hell, even before then, he’d been fresh from a serious stomach wound. Ed shook his head as he found he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had time for a good sparring match. Being on the run it seemed, didn’t lend itself well to actual running.

As Ed exited his room, the smell of fresh baked goods that had been floating about his room grew stronger, drawing Ed down the main stairwell, and through a hallway to the left, where he found himself in a massive dining room big enough for twenty. The smell itself was coming through a mostly hidden door in the back, framed as if to blend into the wall. And through it, presumably, was the kitchen.

With a slight push, the door swung inward silently. Ed figured it was built as it was to allow servants to come and go without disturbing guests. It was through doors like these that Ed had made his escape from many a formal event his rank in the military had forced him to attend. The kitchen itself supported Ed’s theory that the house was meant to hold many servants, as the cooking space was expansive. However behind the door was not an army of servants, but one little house-elf balanced on a tall stool over the stove.

“Amah?” he called, remembering vaguely the name Bones had used the previous night.

“Master!” she cried with a frightened squeak, her rapid attempts to bow to him nearly sending her toppling of the stool.

Her eye's seemed to widen even farther as they fell on his Automail, exposed to the morning air. Ed self consciously tugged on his sleeve in a futile attempt to cover his metal hand as her vibrant blue gaze met his eyes. “I-,” he swallowed his words. “What are you doing?”

“Making breakfast Sir,” she said, her voice timid. “Have I done something wrong sir? I promise I’ll clean all this up right away.”

“What!” Ed shook his head in confusion and stuck out a hand to stop her. “It’s alright Amah, thank you.” the little elf relaxed from her state of agitation and Ed shifted awkwardly in the doorway. “I’ll just- wait out here then.” he murmured excusing himself. The concept of having servants was uncomfortably foreign to him, regardless of what was common in Wizarding high society.

Ed heard the sounds of Amah returning to her work as he exited. Instead of lingering in the dining room to wait, his feet carried down another of the manors halls. While he had yet to see the outside of the manor, he couldn’t picture it in anything but the dark chestnut tone its interior was built in.

As he strolled deeper into the heart of his father's home, the hallways seemed to whisper to him as his presence stirred long stagnant magic back to life. Drawn by the invisible paths of power, he followed the magical ley lines that crisscrossed his path to a large library. One that reminded him strongly of the one in his father's vault. While it lacked the enchanted Xerxian scenery, it’s construction had been clearly inspired by the place of Hohenheim's memory.

Standing there, in the center of his father's influence on this world, Ed couldn’t help but wonder at it all. Flamel, hell even The Dwarf, had told him Hoenheim had the payment to cross between worlds. Why stay? Why linger in this strange world? Why build a life? An identity? It didn’t make sense to him. His every moment since he had arrived here had been working to get back. If he wasn’t attacking the problem directly, he was increasing his knowledge of his surroundings and resources. Why would stay? There was nothing here for him.

But perhaps… perhaps that was the point.

Like Flamel before him, Hoenheim had been running. As far and as fast as he could.

While Ed saw his transportation as a hindrance, Hohenheim must have seen it as Godsent.

A bell rang back the way he had come, and with a final glance around at the shelves he had yet to explore, he turned heel and left. His gut reminding him how long it had been since he'd eaten

\---

Ed rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and tied his hair up in a loose bun to keep it out of his eyes. Drawing his Thunderbird wand Ed took a breath, and with a flick sent all the furniture in the large guestroom against the walls. He cringed a little at the harsh sound the impact made and sent himself a mental note to go over some of the finer movements of spell work again to avoid destroying the house around him.

Flipping open his pocket watch, he slid out Bones’s card from the face where he had kept it for safekeeping. “Here’s hoping this works.” he murmured softly as he placed it on the cleared ground before him. Tapping it three times as he had been instructed, Ed, took a startled step back as the card began to glow violently.

Edward brought his arm up to shield his eyes, and when the light had died enough for him to look back, circled around the card was a ring of delicate alchemical and magical instruments and enough gold bound books to fill several bookcases. Ed took a careful step into the heart of it all and scooped down to pick up the card. The moment his gloved fingers lifted it from its resting place, the pale card crumbled into ash. He supposed that meant there would be no quietly stowing it all away again. No taking his work on the road. That was alright though, the bedroom was decently sized, and with a few modifications, it would make a good alchemy lab.

Striding over to the large window, Ed took a long look at the grassy rolling hills outside. It seemed a shame to destroy such a pretty view, but the sunlight wouldn’t do for either his experiments or for preserving the ancient research journals he’d been gifted. With a clap, he slammed his hands on either side of the window, the wood twisting around the glass to fill the hole. A loud crack took Ed by surprise as the Transmutation finished, and he whipped around to see Amah standing behind him holding her soup ladle like a sword.

She gave a little squeak as they made eye contact, rapidly dropping into a bow and babbling out an unending stream of apologies.

“Hey, Hey!” Ed said throwing up his hands. “Stop that-” instantly words ceased to flow from her mouth. “-you don’t need to apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Ed winced, Kreacher had never been like this. If anything the old elf had treated him like the plague, he didn’t know what he was doing. Dimly Ed could remember the occasional impassioned rant from Hermione directed at the boys about house-elves. While he had never stuck around when the yelling started, he knew there had been parts in there about abuse of power by masters. That was certainly something he wanted to avoid. But, after spending months with someone magically bound to serve, Ed was leery of paying to little attention to the elf.

Well, in any case, the irony of owning someone as the literal son of a slave did not escape him.

He allowed himself a brief moment to wonder if that was why there was no house-elf attached to the estate already. Sure, he didn’t know exactly how long it had been since Hoenheim had been in this world, but according to Sirius, Kreacher had been carrying on out of spit for over 600 years now. Surely if his father had owned one, he would've noticed some evidence of its existence by now.

“Did you need something Amah?” he asked quietly, the residual energy from the transmutation meeting the houses deeply ingrained magic left his hands twitchy.

“No Master,” she shook her head. “I only felt the house changing Sir, and you see it’s Amah’s job to look after the place, Mr. Elric. I was only trying to contain the damage, Amah didn’t realize it was you, Sir.” She spouted out quickly, looking at him with her impossibly wide eyes.

“I- yeah, sorry.” Ed cleared his throat. “You really don’t have to call me that you know. Sir, and Mr. Elric and all that. Edward's my name, uh, Ed’s what my friends call me.” Ed glanced around awkwardly at everything laid across the room. “Listen, Amah, I’m sorry about before. But, I'm gonna be working in here often. So if you notice anything, it’s just me.”

She nodded frantically, looking almost embarrassed, and disappeared with a loud crack, leaving the air with a faint ozone smell like there had just been a lightning strike. Ed frowned when he was sure she was gone. He’d work things out with her later, but for now, he had more pressing matters.

Using the discarding furniture as material, he set to work construction bookshelves and tables on which to work. With a care he very rarely showed, he cautiously moved about Flamel’s ancient apparatuses to their newly designated spots. In an act that reminded him of the good old days running amok the Central Library, he shelved each of Flamel’s numbered volumes. Pulling aside the first, he settled himself at his table with his own notes contained within Sirius's book to begin.

ठ्औमतुर्ग्य्

Ed frowned as his gaze landed on the research title. He should have guessed the whole thing would be in Xerxian. With a sigh, Ed resigned himself the reality that this would take a lot longer than he had previously thought, and defiantly turned his eyes back to the word.

After a minute of starring, Ed admitted to himself he had no idea what it said.

Okay, so maybe this was going to be a lot harder than he had thought too.

\---

The breakout was printed wide across the front page of the paper Amah had brought him. The moving pictures further accentuated the crazed, manic look in the eyes of the prisoners as they lunger at the photographer. A few of the names Ed recognized, Lestrange, of course, being Sirius’s cousin, and a Rookwood that he’d heard stories about from members of The Order.

Ed frowned, Voldemort had lost more than a few followers when he had attacked the Rosier’s, But whether the breakout was a direct response, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s need for new soldiers, or pure coincidence Ed didn’t know. Just the thought of it made Ed's gut burn with a deep rage he wasn’t willing to identify. There seemed to be an unending supply of darkness in this world too.

The next few pages contained their usual smear campaign against Dumbledore. Something that, when he had first read the Prophet, he had assumed was part of some gossip column, not a form of legitimate news. But as the weeks had gone on, and the onslaught continued, Ed realized that the Voldemort denying agenda was a far broader one than he’d thought. Easier to call the headmaster and Harry insane, than to admit to the danger at hand.

In any case, he could see which way things were heading. Tensions building, like pouring lighter fluid on a wood stack, his window for escaping without entanglements was closing fast. If all his potential allies were busy fighting a war, you could bet their offer of help would fall by the wayside.

He needed answers from Flamel’s journals now.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t a person alive who spoke Xerxian other than him. And as Ed had become increasingly aware in these last few weeks, being conversationally fluent didn’t mean he could read the scientific ramblings of a man who had probably learned his mother tongue out of the back of a chemistry book.

Suddenly his train of thought came to a halt. Discarding The Prophet on the table beside him, he extracted himself unsteadily from his chair by the fire. How could he not have thought of this earlier? How could he have been so stupid?

“Amah!” he called, as he pulled on his white gloves sharply to conceal his automail.

The air seemed to tense beside him, and with a crack, she appeared at his side. “Yes, Mister Edward ?”

“Grab my coat from my room would you?” He said, grinning too hard to correct her on the formalness of her greeting.

He needed to visit the bank, there was a painting he was very eager to speak to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, with Midterms over I should be back on track for regular updates!  
> Until next week!


	27. A Foot in Both Worlds

The streets of Diagon Alley were all but deserted as Ed stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron. Far from the hustle and bustle of the pre-school rush he had witnessed on his last visit. A little snow dusted the ground and Ed cold the feel the air's chill in his joints. Most of the shops were closed down, either taking advantage of the lack of customers to close early, or off somewhere on an extended winter vacation. But Gringotts stood open, its soaring marble facade blending easily in with the whitened landscape.

Ed approached the bank, his hands stuck deep into his pockets, the collar of his jacket popped to fight off windchill. His Automail clinked as he hurried up the main steps, the doors swinging open as he approached.

“How can I be of service sir?” the goblin at the front desk asked, not looking up from his bookkeeping.

“I need to get into the Hohenheim vault,” Ed answered shifting back and forth in an attempt to return warmth to his remaining limbs.

“Are you Hoenheim?” the goblin said, still not looking at Ed.

“No- I mean, sort of.” Ed winced at the clunkiness of his own answer.

The goblin finally lifted his gaze to Ed’s, narrowing his eyes. “Sort of?” he said, almost with disbelief. “Sir, you either are, or you aren’t. There is no sort of.”

“No no, I mean- I’m not Hoenheim, but it is my vault.” The goblin didn’t budge. “I’m-” Ed let a low growl grown in the back of his throat. “I’m his son.” he gritted out through clenched teeth.

“His son you say?” the goblin appeared unmoved.

“Yes!” Ed spat. “I’m his fucking son.” Ed winced back at his hostile tone. “Please, I just- I just need to get into my fault.”

The goblin stared at him for a moment without moving. “You’ll excuse me Mr. Hoenheim, I need to check with my superiors. I’ll only be a moment.”

“Elric,” he muttered as the goblin walked away. “My name is Elric.” Edward suppressed a growl of frustration. He was so close to the answer to his problem, and yet little thing like that just kept getting in his way. Ed paced back in forth in from of the tellers counter, drawing odd looks from the few people who had ventured into the bank on the cold January morning.

“Welcome back Mr. Elric.” Ed halted a place and turned to face the supervisor from his previous trip to Gringotts. “I’m sorry about the trouble Sir, your vault being as old as it is, it lacks the standard key we generally provide these days. I promise we'll clear up everything so you're no longer harassed in your attempts to reach your property,” he said. “We had your vault moved up from long-term storage, so security surrounding it is a little higher than usual. We would never intentionally offend such a loyal patron such as the Hoenheim family.” Ed resisted another grimace in the casual way his father's name was thrown around.

Back home, most people had no idea of Hohenheim's existence, but here, he couldn’t go anywhere without being slapped in the face by the bastards memory.

“Now that all of that is cleared up, can I please just go to my vault?” Ed asked, taking the opportunity of his once-in-lifetime hight advantage to look down at the goblin before him.

“Of course Sir.” The goblin said with his best customer service smile, gesturing for Ed to follow him.

This time the cart ride through Gringotts was significantly shorter than it had been last time. The vault, having been brought up several levels now that the bank knew there was someone to claim its contents.

Ed chose not to dwell too deeply on how the vault, with its appearance of having been bored into stone, was able to have been moved closer to the surface. Instead, he leaped over the side of the cart with a grin and slammed his hands, charged with alchemy, into the massive doors to his vault.

Again he was met with only blackness inside the vault, but he strode on in without the hesitancy he had held on his last visit.

The library was just as Ed remembered, great rugs covering the stone floor and the ghosts of people long dead laughing just out of sight. With his new understanding of the fall of Xerxes’s that he’d gained since he’d last entered this room, it seemed less magical now. Less of a miracle, and more of a memory Hoenheim was desperately trying and failing to cling to.

**_“My, my, little Elric has come home to visit!”_ **

_“WHAT DID YOU CALL ME!”_ Ed spat out as he whipped around, his own outburst taking him by surprise. The last people to call him small had been the twins, that felt like ages ago. short jokes had never been Elia's preferred form of humor, she had always been partial to the kind of under-her-breath statements that you only knew to be offended by hours after the fact.

The Dwarf laughed from in his frame, swirling within his flask. **_“Well, I simply figured I would try something new. You didn’t like it all that much when I called you Hohenheim now did you?”_**

Ed narrowed his eyes. _“Yeah, because that isn’t my name.”_

 ** _“Suit yourself.”_** The dwarf said with a sigh. ** _“Now what is it that’s drawn you down to my humble abode little Alchemist?” Ed’s brow twitched. “Should I be flattered into thinking perhaps it was for the pleasure of my company? Your father always liked to talk.”_**

Ed frowned. _“No, I- I got some journals that I think could help me find a way home, but I can’t read them. I never really learned Alchemical terms in Xerxian. But once I know what it says I can work with it from there, but If I can’t read it-”_

 ** _“-Then you will get nowhere.”_** The Dwarf finished for him. **_"You know the simple answer to your problem of course?”_**

Ed shook his head and glared harshly at the Flask. _“I’m not killing anyone.”_

The Dwarf cooked its head at him, considering. **_“It was only a suggestion.”_** He said, in what Ed assumed was his best attempt at sounding hurt. ** _“Do you have the journals on you now?”_**

Ed blinked in surprise. _“Yeah- I do, just the first one though, there are quite a few.”_

 _ **“Hold it up so I can see.”**_ The Dwarf said, beckoning Ed forward with his hands.

Ed pulled Flamel’s journal out of his pocket and flipped it open to face The Dwarf so that **ठ्औमतुर्ग्य्** was facing him. _“Why are you helping me?”_ Ed asked.

 ** _“Why not?”_ ** The Dwarf murmured as his eye scanned the page.

 _“I don’t know,”_ Ed replied quietly. _“I just assumed you would be more… resistant to it.”_

 ** _“I’m really quite bored if that helps you understand. I’ve been alone for a long long time, and Hoenheim never painted another portrait, so it’s not like I can go anywhere else.”_ ** The Dwarf shifted his gaze off the page to meet Ed’s eyes. “You aren’t just the only intelligent conversation I’ve had in ages, but the only conversation period.”

Ed frowned, he couldn’t imagine that. Al had once told him that talking to people was the only thing keeping him sane. Being alone, enclosed in his painting as he was... the idea drew forward an unpleasant feeling in his stomach.

**_“Thaumaturgy,”_ **

_“Excuse me?”_ Ed said, thrown off guard by the non-sequitur.

**_“Your mystery word, it’s Thaumaturgy.”_ **

_“So, Magic,”_ Ed said dryly.

**_“Oooh Bravo! I’m surprised you know that one.”_ **

_“Yeah,”_ Ed said rolling his automail shoulder. Working with veterans of the Ishvalan civil war meant knowing these things. _“The great alchemical debate, Magic? Science? Or Miracle? People who subscribed to Thaumaturgical beliefs were on the magical side of the debate. Which, for those cultures who were also religious, meant Alchemy was tantamount to witchcraft. Which- considering my current situation is frickin hilarious.”_ he said with a bitter smile to the painting.

**_“Not a religious man, Mr. Elric?”_ **

_“Sorry?”_

**_“You said ‘those cultures’, excluding yourself.”_ **

_“Oh.”_ Ed frowned. _“While I’m a far cry from religious, I generally consider myself agnostic.”_

 ** _“A fan of equivocation?”_** The Dwarf said, a smile evident in his words. Ed glared.

 ** _“More like I have a healthy respect for the universe,"_** he responded, failing to see why The Dwarf even cared. ** _"And, if this life has taught me anything, the moment you say something is impossible, you’re guaranteed to get your ass kicked by it. I just have a hard time with what I can’t prove for myself.”_**

 ** _“Interesting.”_** The Dwarf responded. Ed, for his part, chose not to rise to the bait of such an open-ended response.

 _“So what is it the journal says about Thaumaturgy?”_ Ed asked, attempting to pull the conversation back on track. _"What’s the significance?”_

**_“Well I will say this for your friend here, he’s quite the intelligent man. Thaumaturgy, as you know, argues that Alchemy falls into the province of the magical- your friend here agrees.”_ **

_“He does?”_ Ed said in surprise, screwing up his brow in confusion. _“But Alchemy is science- Him of all people- it follows laws, conservation of mass, constant proportion-”_

 ** _“-_** AND ** _, he’s not saying it doesn’t. His claim here is more that Alchemy serves as a sort of intermediate step between science and magic. A foot in both worlds as you will.”_**

 _“So,”_ Ed murdered. _“Energy can be converted between?”_ Flamel had mentioned something similar once, something about if the Death Eaters kept throwing magic into the array they would eventually get it to work- but would still experience rebound. _“Could I use magic as my payment?_  " Ed said, locking his gaze with the painting.

**_“No, not quite.”_ **

_“What? Why?”_

The Dwarf shifted within his flask. **_“Like you said, conversion. Arrays are built with Alchemical energy in mind, you might be able to activate it, but it would be impossible to control the transmutation beyond its initial conception. You still need some sort of conductor.”_**

_“So basically, I’m right where I started.”_

The Dwarf gave a little laugh. _ **“Your youth shows, little Alchemist. We’ve only just begun. You've read but one entry and already you expanded your understanding of the Magical and Alchemical arts. I’d say that’s progress.”**_

Ed frowned, The Dwarf was right. but... there was something else...

_"The Array, the original one. It's built to process soul energy right?"_

_**"I suppose so."** _

_"Well, if that's true, it won't work for me."_

**_"True, in all likelihood, you'll have to restructure it. But, if you have any intention of using the already existing pathways through the gate to get back, you'll still need to use the original as a base."_ **

Ed frowned. one step forward, two steps back.

\---

The Goblin said nothing about Ed’s extended stay within the vault or his removal of the somewhat bulky painting he carried along with him as he climbed back into the cart. He looked forward without change in his expression and started the cart back up the rickety track.

The trip's duration seemed to pass in a flash as Ed’s mind swam with the implications of the fraction of the information he had gleaned from the journals. The more he thought about the possibilities of what he could learn, the more excited he grew. In his delighted state Ed couldn't help the full-faced grin that climbed his mug, which, the goblin driving privately thought made the young genius look a bit like a crazed lunatic.

“Do you need a bag for your acquisition, Sir?” The goblin asked as he escorted Ed back into the main hub of the bank.

“Huh?” Ed glanced down at the cumbersome picture tucked under his arm. “Oh sure, If you’ve got one that’ll-” Ed was cut off as the small goblin procure a deep purple bag that looked to be the size to carry around spare change. “Thanks…?”

Accepting the bag gingerly, Ed discovered that the pouch drawstring seemed to allow the mouth of the bag to grow infinitely wide. Glad, that he hadn’t become the victim of some practical joke he couldn’t understand, he slid The Dwarf’s painting inside. Tucking away the pouch, he placed it in his pocket next to the Flamel journal, before continuing to follow the goblin away from the bank’s vaults.

As soon as Ed took a step outside he could feel something sour in the air, corrupted magic bubbling around him like perfumed rot.

“Mr. Elric, fancy seeing you here.”

Ed turned around to see the tightly drawn face of Lucius Malfoy. “Mr. Malfoy,” Ed said, his face contorting into what he hoped was a smile, as he looked down the Death Eater. “I could say the same of you.”

Lucius sent Ed and almost patronizing smile and chuckled quietly. “I have Business on the lower street,” he said. “And Malfoy Apothecary, hardly got its highly respected name through neglect from its owners now did it?”

“I suppose not Sir,” Ed said, doing his best to retain the malice he felt for the figure in front of him.

“And you Edward,” Ed didn’t fail to notice how Lucius had dropped all stances of properness, addressing him like they were old friends. “What finds you out here in such brisk weather?”

“A need to visit the bank.” He stated. There was no way the man hadn’t seen him exit the building moments ago, so there was no use coming up with some sort of excuse.

“Ah, well I would assume you acquired quite a bit from your dear departed mentor- my condolences- It must be a relief to have it in the securest hands in the wizarding world, eh?”

“Quite,” Ed said, he face beginning to hurt from the forced nature of his smile. It was one thing to lie and put up a front to a politician sticking their nose where it didn’t belong, but it was something else entirely to smile in the face of a man who supported the murder of one of your closest friends and her family.

“Ah!” Malfoy exclaimed, unaffected by the obvious tension in the air. “I was meaning to ask you how your application to Hogwarts has gone? I was once the chairman of the school governors, so I’m rather familiar with the process.”

For a moment Ed froze. Hogwarts was a test subject. His connection, and the one who had been the engineer behind his meeting with Lucius, who had originally pushed for him to join the school, was Pyxis. Pyxis, who he was certain had to have led the Death Eaters to him through the Rosier's. A fact, that Lucius hadn’t so much as acknowledged. He needed to proceed very carefully.

“Not well I’m afraid, I've mostly been fixated on getting my affairs in order. Readjusting to my own manor after so long with the Flamel’s.” Lucius hummed, nodding in agreement. “I’ve practically cut myself off from the outside world, today is the first time I’ve been back to the real world since the funeral.” Now came the risky part. Ed closed his hand around his wand preparing for the worst outcome. “I had kinda thought I would have heard from Elia- uh, Elia Rosier, Pyxis niece, she attended your party with me- by now. But I haven't received so much as an owl.”

Penny in the air… Ed waited, keeping his face as neutral as possible, despite how much his lie burned its way through his throat as he spoke it. He watched as Lucius' face went through a fascinating amount of micro expressions in a matter of mere moments. Confusion, shock, suspicion, glee, neutral, before at last landing on sympathetic.

“Oh, my dear boy, and can’t believe you didn’t know.”...Penny drops.

“Didn’t know what?” Ed said, channeling every bit of that poor misguided child he knew people always saw him as. He knew he was laying it on thick, but there was too much barely contained glee in Lucius’s eyes for the man to notice.

“Well, you see- the Rosier’s, well rather I’m afraid they are no longer with us.” the aristocrat said, giving what Ed was sure the man thought was the performance of a lifetime.

“What?” Ed said, making his eyes wide in the way that had made him cave to Al and an infinite amount of times as kids. “What happened? Everyone?”

“Everyone I’m afraid,” Lucius said with a mournful nod. “I figured you would have seen it in the Prophet at least-” Yeah, Ed had seen it in the Prophet alright, what complete and utter bullshit that had been. ‘An Accidental dust explosion’ it had said. ‘Nothing that could have been done’ bull-fucking-shit. Sure, yeah, it was a dust explosion. But the transmutation marks and the disastrous states of the bodies meant there was no way in hell it had been an accident. And even the casual observer would have to know what the presence of the silver-masked bodies meant. But instead of screaming this in Lucius’s face, calling him out for the murderous scum that he was, Ed stood there silently and let him talk.

And talk.

And talk.

Lucius stood there with him for a good ten minutes, spinning this elaborate tale of a dinner party that had ended in tragedy. All of it lies and half-truths meant for one purpose and one purpose only, to remind Ed he had a friend in Lucius Malfoy.

The one thing in all the rabble Ed was able to pick out of import, was that Lucius didn’t know why Pyxis was there. Whatever it was, whatever motivator that had driven Pyxis to strike then and there, it’s identity rotted with the bastard. Nobody knew why Pyxis had gone to the Rosier house, and Ed intended to keep it that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope everyone had a good Holiday, here's the next chapter and I'll see you next week!


	28. Nighttime Whispers

Harry crawled into bed defeated. His head felt like he’d been struck by an anvil, and his knees shook from using so much magic. Occlumency was going terribly. His lessons seemed to be going nowhere, and knowing his teacher, Harry wondered if that was by design.

However, while Harry had continued to have no luck in keeping Snape out of his mind, he’d hardly dreamed of Voldemort at all as of late. The Dark Lords influence seemed limited to vague thoughts and feelings, rather than the vivid dreams Harry had been experiencing before. Though, this, Harry felt, likely had more to do with the state of the Dark Lord after his attack on the Rosier family, than anything to do with his personal mental strength. Voldemort had gotten away, there was no doubt about that. But, Harry could remember the burning sensation that had consumed him after the blast, and he knew the wizard couldn’t have gotten out unscathed.

Sirius’s reveal that Ed had been the real target of the attack shocked him. He remembered the boy being sent away for his protection earlier in the year, but he hadn’t spared the small blonde much thought beyond the event. The twins seemed to be the only ones who really missed his presence, and Sirius, he remembered, had seemed a little morose after he had left. But, all in all, Ed’s phantom-like presence as he had lived there, meant that the impact of his sudden departure had been minimal. For all the mystery surrounding the other teen, it was hard to picture him as someone worth targeting.

All his attempts to try and figure out why Voldemort was after Ed had been thwarted, and Sirius had straight up told Harry he couldn’t tell him. Something, that had offended him more than he knew it had any right to. Hermione had been oddly silent on the subject, and Harry got the impression that while she was curious, she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. Which in it of itself was mystifying. When he had asked Ron about it, his friend had shrugged and replied that Ed was a weird kid, which hadn’t answered his question in the least. Ginny seemed to think that the two had some sort of falling out the night Hermione had arrived but didn’t know anything more on the subject. Just said that Hermione had run into him late at night, and returned looking shaken.

Harry couldn’t say he had much of an opinion in the first place. Ed seemed like a strange mix of Grimmauld Places resident ghost and a feral cat. Able to disappear and reappear without a word. But there was always a lingering sense of danger, the kind that said Ed was the last person you wanted to pick a fight with. It was the one sense the Harry had, that maybe Voldemort's search wasn’t so absurd after all.

The one thing he could say for the blonde though was that not once had he treated Harry like he was anything special. Ed seemed to have an indifferent- bordering on hostile- air towards nearly everyone. And for once, it had been nice not to be on the receiving end of some sort of special treatment. No additional hatred or misplaced jealousy, and no misdirected hero worship.

Seamus rolled over in his bunk, the squeak of his bed frame drawing Harry out of his thoughts. He let out a sigh as he pulled his blankets up under his chin, letting his mind drift until he was again dreaming of a dark corridor.

\---

Dumbledore sat quietly in his office, the distant ticking of the various machines around his room drumming a tattoo into his mind. Things were approaching a precipice rapidly, and there was nothing to do but wait. One did not fight the storm, one could only weather it.

His carefully laid plans showed cracks, and the future had become uncertain. Harry was safe, for now, though his mind had been compromised. It seemed unlikely Tom had noticed the boy’s presence in his mind as of yet. Their two souls were too deeply intertwined for Harry to be easily detected. The boy would have to master Occlumency in order to lock down that front, but he knew better to count on that outcome. The rate of someone's learning speed, especially under the circumstances, was hardly a stable variable. He knew he was rapidly losing the boy’s trust, but he couldn’t risk hasting Voldemort's discovery of the link by making himself available.

The Orders numbers were lower than they’d been last time. Of those who had survived the first war, many, disheartening as it was, refused to believe that he was back. Scared by what they had seen the first time around, they refused to believe that it could again become their reality. And many of those who had returned were motivated by personal vendettas and loses. That made them unpredictable, and in some cases, unreliable.

The Order was no military. It wasn’t the Army Cornelius foolishly had been led to believe he was gathering. It was simply a collection of souls who didn’t wish to see any more death. They were grocers and businessmen, and office clerks, not soldiers. And not for the first time, Dumbledore worried they wouldn’t be enough.

Beyond his usual fears, another variable had entered the game. A golden figure by the name of Edward Elric. And enigma, and danger to every cleverly constructed plan he had. The boy was powerful, there was no doubt about it. He had felt it on him when they had first met. There was a rawness to his magic that had made Dumbledore even doubt he was human at first.

His Alchemy was like nothing Dumbledore had ever seen. Quicker and more instinctual than the standard Alchemy practiced as a hobby by wizards around the world. The nearest he could reconcile it to would be the strange alchemy Nicholas had practiced behind closed doors that he had shown to the headmaster in secret all those years ago. Because of that, he had already been thinking of sending the boy Nicholas’s way, when Edward had written to him asking to get in contact with the master Alchemist.

But then, Nicholas had died. He had known it would be coming, but the inopportuneness of the timing had thrown him off guard. He had been called to the ministry the day of the funeral- undoubtedly on purpose and had missed the will reading. And Ed. By the time he had made it to the Flamel’s to pay his respects, the boy had disappeared.

There had been neither hide nor hair of Edward till the Rosier’s had been attacked, and again the boy was not to be found. There had been an address listed in the ministry false information on the boy, but the Order members he had sent to look, had been unable to find a trace of the property. Of course, this didn’t mean it didn’t exist, just that it was protected in a way not for them to find. But still, Dumbledore couldn’t begin to relax until he had a definite idea of where the boy was.

Severus had been doing his best to find what Tom wanted with him, but the Dark Lord had been abnormally tight-lipped about it, beyond that he was looking for him. And now, Voldemort seemed to have vanished entirely from the eyes of his followers. A weapon seemed to be the consensus though. Voldemort thought he could use the boy in his war, how though, Dumbledore did not know.

There was a coldness to the boy, dark shadows lingering in his mind, that told Dumbledore he was not the first to have entered. And, whoever they had been, they had been far more successful in their invasion. Alastor was suspicious, and while that may have seemed the common state for the man, Albus had learned to trust in his intuitions. He seemed to think Edward was a danger, not necessarily to them per say, but anyone who got in his way. There was a dangerous drive, pushing him towards some nearly impossible goal somewhere on the horizon. It was a path Dumbledore would very much like to stay out of.

But even still, Edward needed their help. He was a child, and the state Remus and Sirius had found him in proving that he was no superhuman impossible to defeat. He was a boy and admittedly powerful one, but one without any allies or friends to speak of to help him. Which made him valuable. If the Order did not stand in his way, but beside him, whatever power Tom assumed the child had, would be turned against him. Edward would shift from a potentially deadly nuisance to a great aid in the fight. But, if this was to occur, Dumbledore would need to assure a tighter rope on the boy, without control of whatever power he possessed, he would be useless.

\---

Sirius wandered absently up the stairs, to the uppermost floor of the Black household where the library stood waiting. Molly had left for a couple weeks, eager for some time in her own home, and had left an extensive list of things that still needed to be cleaned. A list Sirius had originally resolved to do nothing about, up until the moment the boredom set in. Realizing that with nothing else to do, his only other option would be talking to Kreacher, Sirius was finally galvanized into doing work.

Slowly but surely he had been making his way up the floors, his last stop being the library. The room had been skipped originally due to the risk of dangerous curses on the book and, in part due to that fact that the library had been universally declared Ed’s domain. With the twins the only ones who seemed to work anywhere near effectively with him, and Molly’s complete disinterest in letting those boys around potentially deadly spellwork, the room had remained relatively untouched.

Sirius used his wand to conjure up several floating orbs of light around the room. There had never been any windows in the library, the sunlight being potentially damaging to the old books. And his mother had starkly refused to add gas lights to the room like the rest of the house, utterly convinced that it insured that the family home would end up going up in a raging inferno one night. She had looked pointedly at Sirius at that point in the conversation, though why she thought he would ever willingly go into any library was beyond him.

The room had developed a musty air to it, and everything had been covered in a thin layer of dusk since Ed had vacated the premises. The teen's book stacks remained tucked against the side of the room like the kid had just stepped out, and would be back any moment. A quick glance over the assembled reading material told Sirius enough to know that Edward was Regulus’s soulmate come twenty years too late.

God, he wondered what that would have been like. Twenty years ago this year, his little brother had joined the Death Eaters. He’d been sixteen, just a baby, far too young for all of this. Almost the same age as Ed, a year older than Harry, or Ron, or Hermione. And for a moment Sirius was filled with doubt.

He’d been a vocal supporter of telling Harry what he wanted to know, of giving him all the information he was owed. Harry wanted to fight, and Sirius had thought that was his prerogative… But now? Was he marching his godson off to his grave? Regulus had lasted only two years on the Dark Lord’s own side. What about Harry who would be actively opposing him?

Sirius collapsed into one of Ed’s armchairs and ran his fingers through his messy black hair. _‘Damned if I do, Damned if I don’t’_ Sirius thought bitterly. There was no way of approaching the situation without being hypocritical. If he said Harry couldn’t fight, he was discounting not only his previous support but also the actions of his youth. If he said he could, he was all but damning his best friends son to an early grave, which was the last thing he wanted. Talk about a rock and a hard place.

He picked up a book on the end table next to him, its position apart from the others told him it must have been one he’d had to have drug Ed away from, as the kid could be almost obsessive about the orderliness of his research. The Munich Manual of Demonic Magic, The title read. A cheery sounding tome Sirius was not at all surprised to learn his family owned. A quick glance through it told Sirius that Ed had paid much better attention to Latin than he had. And, based on the scrawled notes stuck between some of the pages, the boy had aced several languages Sirius had never heard of. As the notes seemed to switch alphabets mid-paragraph, almost as if their writer had lost his train of thought.

Noticing a book tucked under the table, Sirius picked it up to reveal an old potions textbook entitled Zygmunt Budge’s Book of Potions. Sirius frowned as he didn’t recognize it as one of his, and the binding was far too old for it to have been left by one of the kids. In confusion, Sirius opened up the inner cover of the book to reveal the painfully familiar, **_Property of R. A. B._** Scrawled on the inside. Nostalgia and a desire to stop looking at the familiar signature drove Sirius to turn the page. Quickly he realized that the reason the book failed to look familiar in any way shape or form, was there was no way the book had ever been authorized as an official text by Hogwarts. While the table of contents showed a few mundane potions Sirius was familiar with, it also bore a few that he knew would have landed the book in the restricted section in a heartbeat.  
  
Carding through the rest of the book he found a scrawl he didn’t recognize to have made neat notes in the margins of the book, serving as additional footnotes and asides to the listed potions recipes. The handwriting appeared and disappeared, choosing to voice its thoughts about certain potions and remain silent on others. One page near the end of the book simply read; **While interesting in theory, I would not recommend an attempt.** And on and on it went, until at last, he reached the back cover where the writer named themselves.

**To sate your incessant curiosity,**  
**Happy Christmas,**  
**Your Friend,**  
**The Half-Blood Prince**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, here's the next chapter. This was a weird one to edit, so I hope I got most of the weirdly worded stuff fixed. But thank you for reading as always and very Happy New Years to all of you!


	29. The Vanishing Pub

In the end, Ed finally got away from Lucius’s coy smile. The Death Eater had sent him away with his deepest sympathies and the handshake of a snake oil salesman. He promised to have Ed over one night to discuss his transfer to Hogwarts, and he’d accepted through gritted teeth.

It was dark by the time he got home, having stopped at the leaky cauldron for dinner. He’d fully intended to jump into the fireplace and return home straight off, his skin was still crawling after his conversation with Lucius, but the smell over overpriced inn food had a nostalgic pull he couldn’t resist.

Ed grinned as the innkeeper Tom, handed over Ed’s Steak and Kidney pie. The older man shot Ed an unreadable look as he handed over his money, his eyes lingering only for a second on Ed’s golden gaze before quickly looking away

“Thanks,” Ed said a he turned to take a vacant table in the corner of the room.

Tom gave a grunt of acknowledgment and began polishing glasses below the bar. “A damn shame,” Ed heard him mutter as he walked away. “Such a young kid, it's a damn shame.” 

Part of Ed wanted to turn around and ask Tom what it was he was talking about, but the more he thought about it, the more he became aware of the almost apprehensive looks he was getting from the other patrons. Frowning, Ed put his head down and ate. It wasn’t nearly as good as Amah’s food, a bit rawer than necessary, but familiar all the same. And that was exactly what he wanted. The questionable ingredients and slightly dry crust of the pie reminded him of simpler times, of Al.

He was worried, he finally admitted to himself. Worried that he wasn’t going to make it back. His determination hadn’t wavered, he was still prepared to do whatever it took- but an inkling of doubt had begun to creep into his mind. What if all of was for nothing? What if with _determination_ meant nothing because what he was attempting was simply not possible?

Mercy would cost him, he knew that. The metal beam that had torn through his insides really hammered that lesson home... Ed winced as his mind drifted to places he didn't want it to go. He was not a murderer, and he would not use souls. But if that meant not getting back… was he okay with that? Were his individual principles worth the lives of everyone back home? Had he missed his chance as he watched the last energy of a philosophers stone be used up in front of him? Ed’s fork clattered to his plate, shocking him out of his thoughts. A voice that sounded very much like The Dwarf's taunted him in the back of his mind, reminding him of everyone who could die if he didn’t make it home.

Ed gritted his teeth, shoving the last bite of his meal into his mouth. Collecting his place he slid them on to the bar, Tom’s eyes following him until the green flames of the Floo Network swallowed him up.

\---

Ed rested his head on the lab table, his notes spread all around him in a state of controlled chaos. With the Dwarf’s help he had begun translating Flamel’s notes into something readable, and with each page he read, he was further reinforced in his belief that Flamel had been a self-important ass. The Master Alchemist wrote in a way that clearly told Ed that the notes were meant to impress upon the reader how smart Flamel was, rather than give information in any sort of concise manner.

When it took three lines for someone to say “It got colder” you knew they were overdoing it. The words were cold and sterile, closer to those of a textbook rather than notes on someone's life work. The more Ed read, the more suspicious he became of the notes original purpose. There were whole sections that The Dwarf had just told him to skip because they contained only rudimentary knowledge that he’d learned on his own as a child.

The beginning of the notes had been chalk full of theoretical ideas Thaumaturgy, Theurgy, and Theosophy and the like, followed by the concepts of thermodynamics as well as a rudimentary periodic table. But, most of the rest of that first volume had consisted of the basics of forming transmutation circles. However, the brief mention of Theosophy had given Ed a brief moment of pause as he had skimmed the section.

_Divine Wisdom…_ It was a concept that Ed had easily skipped over when he’d been learning as a kid, that on any other day he would easily continue to ignore…

**_“I am God,”_ **

That’s what Truth had called itself. The Dwarf had asked him if he was religious, earlier, in the vault. Ed had thought it was odd at the time but… could it have been a clue of some sort?

Theosophy was the belief that Alchemy was an ability gifted by God. It was a heavily polarizing concept, that with Ed’s own personal views he had stayed far away from. But now, if he thought about it, it made sense in a way. Not God necessarily, like he’d told The Dwarf, he wasn’t ready to open that can of worms, but the Truth. 

The idea of human transmutation was often believed to be the birth of Alchemy in Amestris and its surrounding areas. An innate desire to bring back what was lost had driven that Alchemical revolution that had shaped their land. So it made sense that someone way back had tried, and when they’d come back from the gate with their head impossibly full of alchemical knowledge, given to them by a being that called itself Truth, why wouldn’t they think Alchemy was a gift from God?

Ed paused. If Theosophy was truly based on the existence of Truth… he could use that. It would need to be updated, of course, Ed thought as he flipped through Flamels journals to find the section he was looking for. Old alchemy rarely completely stood the test of time, it was a fast-moving field and new innovations could render old theories obsolete overnight. But even if the meat of it was wrong… if he still had good bones to stand on...

The Dwarf watched Edward scramble with the scattered notes from where he had been mounted on the wall. There was a thirst for knowledge in those eyes that he had missed. He could remember the first time he had met Hoenheim, back when he had been known as slave 23. He had been a little older, but looked a great deal like his son- but his eyes had been lighter, more full of wonder. This Edward Elric had hard eyes, a sharpness that spoke of the cruelty and unfairness of the world, and he couldn’t help but wonder what part his old friend had in making them look like that.

Hoenheim had been different when he’d woken up. A colder version than the man his ghostly memories told him he knew. The first question out of his mouth had been a simple, “Why?”, and The Dwarf hadn’t known how to answer that. “Why what?” he had asked back, and Hoenheim had only nodded, gone about his business as if he had never asked.

It was an odd thing to be a painting, because he could remember what it was like to feel, think, and be real, but it all seemed so far off- like a dream. But frankly, now he really couldn’t remember what dreaming was like either. Hoenheim would leave for days at a time, different than how it had been before, and leave The Dwarf alone with his thoughts. His thoughts? Hoenheims thoughts? Magical concoctions based on what he had been before? Before what though?

The last thing he could remember clearly was hearing that the king wanted to speak to him. From there it was like someone had taken a razor to his mind cutting away pieces of his life, leaving an empty void in their place. And after a while, he had a sneaking suspicion of what should have filled them.

Hoenheim had always been frustratingly vague about why he was a painting, or why it was they could no longer return to Xerxes. though, admittedly he hadn’t really minded that one until he realized his friend never intended to let him leave the vault. And that, in it of itself drew more questions. Hohenheim would do this thing where they would be talking, and he would say something to make the Alchemist laugh, and a moment later the man would grit his teeth, lower his eyes, and leave, sometimes without any sort of farewell. And each time it happened, it painted a clearer picture of why he couldn’t remember certain things. He’d done something. And as soon as Hoenheim told him what had happened to his home, he had known exactly what it was that made his old friend hate him so.

\---

Each meal around the house became an exercise in awkwardness, complete with stilted one-sided conversation. Ed simply could not get over having a house-elf, and he felt their necessity in any high-class family was a bit oversold. That wasn’t to say she wasn’t nice because she was- though Ed didn’t exactly have the best pool of house-elves to judge her against. Her cooking was great, and Ed appreciated the house upkeep, as he was sure the whole place could rot and crumble around him and he wouldn’t notice it, if it didn’t mess with his Alchemy lab. But there was something almost disconcerting about having someone who would follow your orders implicitly, and he had to say he wasn’t the greatest conversationalist where Alchemy wasn’t concerned. In the end, it became too much, and Ed informed Amah that he would be getting dinner in town.

As Ed stepped outside into the- January? February? _He should probably check on that-_ air, he grudgingly admitted to himself that he might have been in need of some fresh air. There was a crispness in the wind around him, a naturalness that told him there were few wizards in the area. While the stark cliffs and half-demolished Castles and Cathedrals surrounding him were like nothing he’d ever seen before, the town itself held a familiarity that reminded Edward of home. 

Ed wandered down the main street grinning a little as he passed the far more advanced car models parked alongside the road. He could almost perfectly picture what the look on Mustangs face would be when Hawkeye told him he wasn't allowed to dive one. There weren’t very many people out, most having already headed home for the night. It was nice, just him alone with his thoughts. He reveled in it, unsure of the next time he would get this chance. He still had a lot of work to do with the journals, their wide range of topics made it a bit unpredictable to guess what each volume would contain. In fact, the more he read them, the more he became convinced that Flamel had indeed written them for someone else. And if he was correct, that person was Alexander Rosier. It would explain the subtle references to Xerxes littered throughout the text, a much younger Flamel not know yet to be wary of who to share his origins with.

It made sense in a way, why Alexander would choose Xerxes to run away to, the country had been dangled over his head like golden bait for as long as he had been Flamel’s apprentice. His master's nightmare had become his dream.

As Ed turned the corner, keeping his eyes out for somewhere to grab a bite, he felt a faint tingle along the spine that whispered of magic. Drawn towards it despite himself, he found himself at the doors of a small pub that seemed to both be and not be, disappearing when he looked directly at it, but remaining when he unfocused his gaze. Carefully his hand found the door, and he let himself inside.

Instantly the building solidified around him, and Ed was hit by a blast of warm air. The room he had entered was warmly lit and full of all manner of people, scattered among them goblins, and other beings Ed had only seen within the pages of books. Nobody but the raven-haired woman manning the bar seemed to notice his approach, fixing him an easy smile, she passed him a menu and told him to find himself a seat he liked. Settling himself in the back of the room so he could take in the scene in front of him, he smiled at the familiar sound of drunks roaring with laughter. Where the Leaky Cauldron had felt worn and the people judgemental, this place, Ed had no other way to describe it but good.

“Nee’ som’thing ter drink ther’ ked?” came a voice to his left as an impossibly large man settled beside him.

It took a moment for Ed’s brain to first process the man's size, and then to figure out what it was he’d been asked again. “I’m good, really,” Ed said with a tight smile, wondering to himself what it was about him that attracted strange people, it wasn’t like he didn’t already have enough giants in his life.

“Say, Yeh wouldn’ be from Hogwart’s would yeh? Yeh ain’ suppose ter be dow’ ‘ere.” The man said, fixing Ed with what the Alchemist supposed was a glare, though the amount of alcohol the man had consumed seemed to be unbalancing him slightly.

“No, not Hogwarts,” Ed said, taking a half scoot away as the man began to tip forward dangerously. “I live here.”

“In thee pub?” the man asked in utter confusion, Ed was saved the trouble of a response as he was rescued by the appearance of the black haired bartender from before.

“No, I think I would have noticed if he was sleep’n here Hagrid.” She said laying a hand on the intoxicate giants back. “You best hurry and head back to that school of yours my friend, we shan't have you give that pink bitch any other reason to toss you out.”

Hagrid, as that must have been the giant's name, stumbled to his feet stumbling a bit before righting himself and making his way toward the fireplace at the far side of the room. While Ed privately through allowing a man as intoxicated as him near open flame was hardly a good idea, the seemed to activate the floo network with little difficulty.

“If he’s trying to keep his job, I think he’s a little past presentable.” Ed murdered aloud as he tried to picture any of Mustangs team surviving Hawkeye's wrath if they had dared to come to work drunk.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” the woman said turning to face him again. “It takes a hell of a lot to get a half-giant drunk, and I cut him off before the effects would be any sort of lasting.”

Ed nodded, only half comprehending what she saying, now more concerned with the height of full-sized giants.

“Can I get you something to eat?” she asked, a quill floated in the air next to her, poised to take down anything he said.

“Can I just get a sandwich?” he asked, calling off the first thing he saw on the menu.

“Sure thing,” she said with a smile, she paused for a moment as she made to walk away. “I've got to say impressed, it takes a lot of nerve to sneak yourself into an entirely different town on the Hogsmeade Weekend. Especially with how tight security at the castle has been lately.”

Ed frowned, “Sorry, what?”

She laughed a little, “You don’t have to lie to me, I only graduated a few years back myself. my housemates and I were always getting ourselves into trouble.”

“No really,” Ed said, “I’m not a student.”

“Huh,” she said setting down her order pad on the table, the floating quill joining it. She cocked her head as she looked at him like she was trying to puzzle him out. “Holy shit.” she murmured. “You’re not lying.”

Ed reared back, suddenly conscious of an almost ghost-like touch on his mind. “Stop that!” he yelled breaking the connection. There was a brief moment of silence as the other patrons of the bar looked at them, before returning to their own business.

The bartender raised her hands in surrender. “Sorry kid, I didn’t mean anything by it.” She said it easily, as if she had stepped on the back of his shoe while they walked, rather than invaded his mind.

“Why did you do that!” Ed hissed, his hand closing around his wand.

She shrugged, seemingly nonpluses by his outward hostility. “Speeds up a conversation if I don’t have to deal with bad attempts at covering up a lie.” She sighed and dropped her hands. “Relax, it’s not like I was looking around. I couldn’t even if I wanted to, lying is about as far as my legilimency skills go. Think about it like someone who gets vibes, or bad feelings because they had a Seer in the family a few generations back. Just ‘cause they guess that taking one road over the other will end poorly for them, doesn’t mean they’re liable to burst out in prophecy.” 

“You poked around in my head because you thought I was lying about being a Hogwarts student,” Ed said dryly, not taking his eyes off her.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation.

“Personal boundaries aren’t really your strong suit are they?” 

She sighed loudly again, “I’ll be right out with your sandwich.” 

Ed watched her retreat back behind the bar to an area he presumed was the kitchen, muttering the whole way about blondes with attitude problems. He frowned a little as she disappeared from view, as his mind caught up with the new information he had acquired. It seemed something was going down at Hogwarts. And while he owed no loyalty to the school, he knew it to be a stronghold of the Orders. And if it was hurting the Order, there was a very good chance it could hurt him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed, see you at the next one!


	30. On Thin Ice

When the Black-Haired woman disappeared into the back, a man of a build not indifferent to Sig Curtis had taken over her place behind the bar. More than a few patrons had left, seeing the time, and every so often through the front windows, Ed could see the occasional person approach the door with confidence, only to look confused and walk away.

She returned a little later with his order and a couple drinks she brought out to various patrons. Sliding his plate across the table to him, she settled into one of the other chairs and kicked her feet up.

Ed looked around in confusion for a few moments, unsure of how to respond. “Can I help you?” he asked hesitantly.

“You’re curious,” she replied, though Ed felt that hadn’t really answered the question he’d asked.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re curious,” she repeated, shifting so she was facing Ed head on. “You’re new. We don’t get many new people around here.” Ed just starred, unsure of where she was going with this. “The building, it’s charmed you see, meant to keep people out unless they know it’s there. And you-” she pointed a finger almost accusingly at him. “-didn’t know it was there. You hesitated, you can’t do that. Once your mind thinks for a second that there might not be anything there, you won’t be able to drop it. You paused, and then kept on walking. That shouldn’t happen.” she finished, staring at him half in intrigue and half with thinly veiled suspicion

“I mean-” Ed started. “It wasn’t obvious that it was there looking at it, but I could kinda see it if I wasn't looking directly at it- Doesn’t that make it hard to get customers?” he asked, interrupting himself.

“Odd,” she said, pointedly ignoring Ed’s question. “So who are you then? The magical community around here’s pretty small. The most exciting people we get are the occasional teacher from the school.” she said waving her hand in the direction of the fireplace Hagrid had disappeared through. “They stop down here if they want to get a drink without running into their students.” she gave a kinda half-smile. “McGonagall's face the first time I served her was priceless. I’ll admit, at the time, the thought of serving my old head of house anything was terrifying,” she said, the smile sliding off her face. “I felt like a tiny first year all over again. I’d been out of school for a year and I was still convinced I was going to end up with detention.”

Ed nodded almost solemnly. His interactions with the fearsome professor had been somewhat limited, but he had seen the terrifying similarities to several women in his life almost instantly. He did not envy those on the receiving end of her narrowed green eyes.

“Edward.” He answered as she looked at him expectantly. Causing him to remember that there had been a question buried in the young witches rambling.

She raised an eyebrow at his short answer, something Ed had figured she was sure to do. Wizards could really be quite anal about surnames. “Well, Edward, I’m Olivia Ridley. Proud proprietor of The Dancing Mule.”

“The… Dancing Mule?”

“My Parents named the bar.”  
\---  
Lucius flinched as the explosion of green light burst forth from the end of the Dark Lord’s wand. The woman in chains let out a silent scream, and he averted his eyes as Pyxis Rosier’s wife crumbled to the ground, dead.

Bella twitched beside him almost involuntarily. Her eyes were wide, and she took in the death with a loose smile on her face. His sister-in-law had never been the most stable of witches, but her years in Azkaban seemed to have unraveled what little remained. Only her feverish devotion for the man he stood beside seemed to have survived the dementors

Bella’s Mother had been born Rosier, Pyxis’s cousin at that. Evan had died fighting that lunatic Moody back during the first war. Pyxis, in the attack that had whipped out the remaining Rosier’s of the other line. Druella, the mother of his wife, Bellatrix, and the other one… had died not long after they had all graduated. Some illness in her blood. They really all had been whipped from the Earth, hadn't they?

“All neat and tidy we are, can’t have any of that lot in our ranks now can we?” Bellatrix said a faint undertone of laughter in her words. Lucius refrained for his own sake, of reminding her of the genealogy he had just been thinking of. If the Lord hoped to finish off the last Rosier as a posthumous punishment for Pyxis, two of his loyal servants bore at least half his blood in their veins.

“Oh Draco, darling,” Bella said, with a small pout as she made her way towards Lucius’s son. “No need to look so grim.”

“Yes, aunt Bellatrix,” Draco replied, his teeth locked together in an obvious attempt not to pull away from the mad woman. She placed a thin hand on her nephew's cheek, cupping his face in her hand.

“Never look away from death Draco, embrace it,” she whispered. “There is power in watching someone's life leave them. Never forget that.”

“That’s enough Bella,” Lucius spoke for the first time since Pyxis’s wife was brought out. “Draco return to your room, I’ll speak with you later.” His son didn’t respond, his eyes locked on the rapidly cooling corpse before him. “Now Draco,” he repeated, allowing a little hiss into his voice, successfully shocking the boy out of his state. Draco nodded his head at him and gave a stunted bow to where the Dark Lord sat, before retreating up the stairs as quickly as he could while still maintaining his dignity.

“You spoil him, Lucius,” Bella said, returning to her master's side. “Handle him with kid gloves and he’ll never grow a spine.”

Lucius narrowed his eyes. “Thank you Bellatrix, but I’ll raise my son how I see fit. Seeing as he is, after all, my son.”

_“Lucius.”_ He froze, the Dark Lord’s voice seemed to crawl along his spine. “Tell me about the boy. This promising Alchemist you spoke of.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he walked to face his master head on, averting his eyes from the still healing burns that covered the right side of his face. “I-”

“I hope you choose your words carefully, the last man who tried to tell me of this boy’s import is rather dead now.”

“Pyxis’s overzealousness was unfortunate My Lord,” Lucius barely suppressed a wince at the memory of the photos of charred bodies he’d seen in the ministry report of the incident. “What convinced him the boy was anything more than human is beyond me. However, I can tell you he could prove useful in ways different than what Pyxis promised.

“Yes, yes, his Alchemy. You’ve told me this all already. What new can you give?”

“He’s vulnerable my lord.”

_“How so?”_

“He has no one. The only connection he had in this world beside his old master, was the Rosier’s. And, well, me.”

“And you think he would be will to join us, Lucius?”

He frowned slightly. “Perhaps not outright, but he is a Hoenheim, My Lord.” this seemed to draw Voldemort's attention.

“Oh, now well that’s intriguing.”

\---

“So what?” Olivia asked, “you’re just on your own? Not attending school or anything? How old are you?”

“I’m- wait. What day is it?”

“The 6th of February.”

“Huh,” Ed said, feeling very disconnected from his body for a second.

“What? What’s that mean?”

“It means I’m 16,” he spoke dumbly. “I’ve been so caught up in everything I hadn’t really noticed.”

“Jesus kid, How caught up in something do you have to be to miss your own birthday?”

Ed couldn’t really hear her. It wasn’t his real birthday, of course, It had been late March when he’d disappeared from his world, and mid-July when he’d arrived here. With almost a three month difference, his true birthday wouldn’t be until sometime in May… but still. It was easy sometimes to forget how long he’d been away.

Without friends surrounding him, or the impending date of the Promise Day looming, he found it hard to keep track of days. He’d only had one dream of Amestris since changing over to the estate, a foreboding vision of the Resembool cemetery, but he had noticed an increase of dejavu like episodes. He’d stop suddenly in the middle of doing something, thinking there was something he needed to tell Greed or Winry. Only to realize he’d found himself lost in the middle of a conversation he’d had ages ago.

“Kid?” Ed snapped back to himself, sitting at his table as Olivia shook his shoulder looking concerned. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” Ed muttered. In truth he felt a bit sick, the thought of his weird moments seemed to have brought one on.

“You sure you should be out?” Olivia asked quietly as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear. “The Full moon was only a couple nights ago, there’s no shame in still feeling sick.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Ed asked a little harsher than he meant too, and Olivia released his arm.

“Sorry,” she said quietly, almost hesitant. “Do you want me to get you anything?”

“A water maybe?” He asked, feeling a bit nauseous.

He felt her presence disappear from behind him, the bar seemed to blur around him to resemble Madam Christmas’s in Central where Mustang would take the team for celebratory drinks on occasion. It was almost- almost if he squinted just so- he could see the Colonel leaning against the bar, a blonde at his side as he talked with the Madam across the counter.

“Edward?”

Mustang vanished, and now it was only Olivia in front of him, a glass of water outstretched.

“Thanks,” he said, accepting it with his human hand. He was unsure that he would be able to control the automail one enough not to crush it. A couple drinks in and Ed felt decidedly more like himself, a little tired maybe, but far from upchucking his guts everywhere like he’d about a moment ago.

The Gate it seemed, was growing eager to have him back where he was supposed to be. Which would be all well and good if the Truth wasn’t willing to rip his soul clean out of his body to reinstate order. With Flamel dead, he was the last foreign entity remaining. He and that array were the last things keeping the gash between the two worlds from closing preferably forever.

He straightened up, letting his head fall back against his chair. Somewhere during Ed’s episode, most of the rest of the bar had cleared out. All but a few folk who- weren't likely to remember how many fingers and toes they possessed judging by the amount of alcohol they had consumed- had disappeared.

“Feeling any better?” she asked, which Ed returned with a noncommunicable grunt. “In any case,” she murmured. “You should probably be getting home. You look like you could use about a week's worth of sleep.”

Ed nodded, and didn’t resist as Olivia helped him to his feet after he placed the necessary money on the table. Ed did his best to take his own weight, but knew he couldn’t have been doing a very good job after she commented on how surprisingly heavy he was.

He managed to shake away the fogginess in his head long enough to climb into the fireplace of his own accord and raise a handful of Floo powder above his head.

“Hohenheim Estate.” He said, dropping the magical dust into the flames.

“Wait. Did you just say Hoenheim?” was the last thing he heard as he was swept away.

\---

Olivia’s sleeping for a week idea wasn’t too far off it seemed. He managed to keep it together long enough to return to his bedroom, where he collapsed into bed and didn’t leave for five days.

Fevers, Ed had decided, were the worst, not only did they impede his mental function, but they brought back painful memories of his mother's last days. There was also the significant hit to his pride a fever created. The great Fullmetal Alchemist, hero of the people, brought down by a virus even smaller than him.

Wow… he must be really sick… he made a short joke about himself.

Amah seemed particularly freaked about his sudden spell of illness, unable to fix it with a snap of her fingers she had all but begged him to let her call a doctor. He’d denied it. If Amah couldn’t fix it, chances were it wasn’t a virus after all. And judging by the strange Amestrian illusions that came in and out as he lay in bed, he doubted his illness was anything a wizard could fix. He tried to assure her that he just needed to wait it out, but he had little luck in convincing the elf.

In the end, he’d been right, his fever broke and he returned to his daily life. though, it seemed to him that both Amah and the Dwarf seemed to be keeping a closer than usual eye on him.

_“Something you want to say?”_ he asked, the painting to his back as he scribbled notes in the journal Sirius had given him.

**_“You won’t last.”_ **

_“What was that?”_ Ed asked, despite having a fairly good idea of what the Homunculus was talking about.

**_“Flamel was a bigger target than you, the presence of the souls drew far more of The Gate’s energy, but they also served to protect him from it’s more harmful effects. You do not have the same luxury.”_ **

Ed sighed, _“I definitely regret giving you the name of my “friend” if you're only going to use it to badger me.”_

The Painting all but rolled its eye. **_“You didn’t give me anything. I’m hardly incapable of reading an author name off a title page.”_** Ed shot him a glare but was unable to think of anything to respond with. **_“In any case, it’s beside the point. Unless you find a way of making The Gate accept you as something of this world, it will kill you.”_**

Ed sighed, dropping his quill and running his fingers through his golden fringe. _“Yeah, and if somehow manage to do that, convince The Gate I belong here, my way back closes. And I have no controlled way of finding out how much energy it would take for me to get back then. Right now, I’m relying on the damage between the two world as a means of getting myself through with the least about of energy and risk of death. I can’t do that If a close it.”_

_**“So what? You plan to just weather it?”** _

_“Maybe I do.”_

And the pair fell into silence. Ed was a quick learner, he hardly needed the Dwarf for translations these days, and he had found himself, quite despite himself, turning to the Homunculus for friendly conversation.

The Dwarf was different to the other Homunculus Ed had known, except perhaps Greed. And even then, his friend's desires and emotions still seemed somewhat less complex. Greed had a one track mind, that Ed wasn’t sure that was possible to change, the Dwarf, however, was different.

He reasoned and thought out like any other human being, found humor in things, and had a deep interest in others. Each time Ed spoke to him, he couldn’t help but wonder why he was different. He supposed it was possible it was just the aspect of the Dwarf being a painting. He wasn’t quite the real deal, and whoever had painted him, Hoenheim in all likeliness, a human- or close enough- couldn’t comprehend the way a homunculus saw the world and had created a sort of bastardization that had become “The Dwarf”.

Ed tipped back his chair so his knees caught on the underside of the table. With a sigh, he scrubbed his hands across his face. He was doing better with the exception of the occasional bout of dizziness and a little nausea here and there. What frustrated him the most about it all was that maybe The Dwarf was right.

He turned his head at the sound of a hesitant knock on his door. Amah much to his relief had agreed to stop randomly appearing behind him. And since then, the number of times Ed had gotten distracted while doing something delicate and accidentally blown up a wall, had greatly decreased.

“Come in,” he called, dropping his chair back down on four legs.

“I have a letter for you, Sir,” she said, extending a thick envelope towards him.

“Really?” Ed asked as he made his way over to her.

Malfoy. Ed physically recoiled upon seeing the name artfully inscribed at the bottom of the letter contained inside.

“Wonderful,” he muttered. “I’d almost managed to forget about the greasy bastard.”

It was inviting him to a dinner at Malfoy Manor. A proper affair, not one of the overinvolved galas he’d attended last time. But that’s not what drew Ed’s attention. That prize went to the sickeningly innocent line about “having a look at your future”. Edward yet again found himself wondering, with no little amount of resentment, what the hell Flamel had been thinking introducing him to Death Eaters.

“Amah?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Do we have any of that Fire Whiskey stuff in the house?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are again... (Also, if you get the chance, you should look up pictures of Saint Andrew's Scotland where Ed's currently living. It's an incredibly beautiful place I had the good fortune to get to visit on my way to Falkland Palace this past summer.)  
> -Pree


	31. The Head of the Serpent

The Malfoy dinner wasn’t until the end of March, thank Truth. If there was one thing Ed liked about polite wizarding society, it was there almost habitual need to announce everything ages before it actually happened. He figured it stemmed from a desire to let everyone who wasn’t invited soak in their shame, and grovel for forgiveness an ample amount of time before the event was to occur.

Amah seemed positively overjoyed that he would be attending. The little Elf had taken it upon herself to force Ed into the company of others at least once a week now, and the prospect of Ed engaging in human activity without coercion nearly made her faint with glee. He hadn’t quite put to bed the idea that her excitement came from the fact that he wouldn’t be around to wreck her beautiful house rather than any actual concern for his well being.

In attempts to placate her, Ed had practically achieved regular status at The Dancing Mule. An endeavor that proved to be incredibly enlightening in the ways of the common wizard. As someone whose reputation was literally “of the people”, it had felt more than a little odd that the only life experience he had in this world was among shut-ins and the high society.

Olivia was always willing to step aside and chat, seemingly enjoying talking to someone who hadn’t been coming to the pub for the last fifteen years. When Ed had inquired about the fate of the customers at the bar she had waved him off, and reported that ‘Ashley would take care of it’. It took Ed more weeks that he liked to admit to realize that she was referring to the Goliath of a man who looked like he could give Armstrong a run for his money. It then took a few more weeks to work up the courage to ask if that was really his name. When the man introduced himself as Christie Ashley the Third, Ed gave up trying.

As a person who used magic for everyday life rather than as a tool to use in theoretical Alchemy, Olivia was an invaluable teacher. After the pub closed up for the night, she was more than willing to fill in some of the gaps in his magical education. She had apparently done quite well in Charms, an area Ed suffered in magically, and began working to get him up to speed with what he would be expected to know at his age.

As the beginning of March hit, Ed got sick again. It wasn’t as bad as it had been last time, purely because he was more aware of it coming on. Amestrian voices could be heard around each corner of the house and more often than not, as he worked, he could feel Winry or Al looking over his shoulder like they were kids again.

After he missed a week at the pub, a basket of chocolate was delivered by owl to the Manor. He sent the bird back with a thank you, but beyond that, his illness was never discussed.

\---

It seemed to Harry there was a dark cloud hanging over the head of all of Hogwarts these days. He’d never really liked Trelawney, her predicting of his death on their first meeting had put rather a damper on their relationship, but nonetheless, what Umbridge had done to her was awful. The teacher had never had the most commanding presence in the world, but Harry didn’t think he would ever forget the way she shook as Umbridge had tried to have her thrown out. No one had seen the Divination teacher since, and according to a Hufflepuff third year, only the house-elves were allowed in these days.

Voldemort was back, not as an angry presence in the back of his mind, but something yearning- seeking for something just out of reach. During one of his Occlumency lessons with Snape, the potions master had attacked the sensation in his mind, not recognizing it as foreign. Instantly both their heads had were filled with the image of a large silver Pensive, and swirling within its depths was Ed, golden eyes narrowed, hand clenched around a coin purse out front of Gringotts.

Snape had pulled away, tugging Harry to his feet were he had crumpled to the ground and sent him off to bed without another word. Occlumency was canceled as Snape left the school for a few days on “personal business”, his position filled by a dull ministry witch who looked close to professor Binns in age.

Hermione had been troubled when Harry told her what he’d seen, and all three of them couldn’t help but wonder if this meant the Dark Lord had Ed. Fred and George were listening in, flying privileges lost, and with the eye Umbridge was keeping on them, the trio had become one of there only sources of entertainment.

“What’d you mean they might have Eddie?” one of them exclaimed, violently removing himself from the twins hiding spot.

Hermione shushed both of them loudly, her eyes darting around the doom in paranoia. “Quite! Both of you! We don’t know anything!”

“But you said-”

“-That You-Know-Who was thinking about him!” Fred hissed over his brother's words.

“Yeah, and that’s all we know,” Harry replied quietly, his voice dropping as a first year entered the common room. “That, and, right after Snape found out- he up and disappeared.”

“What d'ya reckon they could want with him?” Ron asked quietly once they were alone again.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t know.” he paused. “All I do know is, whatever it’s for- Ed’s in trouble.”

“You reckon we should tell The Order?” Ron asked, his voice hushed as he glanced around the room.

“How?” Harry asked, frustration evident on his face. “We can’t get a message out, the post is being watched, and the same goes for The Order members here. I doubt Umbridge will let us alone with any of them, and even if we managed it they wouldn’t be able to get the message out themselves!”

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh, “Aren’t you forgetting a member of The Order already knows?”

“What?” Ron said disbelievingly.

“Professor Snape!” she shot back, her words met with groans of dissent from the other four.

“Yeah but-”

“Snape, seriously Hermione-”

“He wouldn’t care.”

“Why not!” she hissed angrily. “I know you don’t like him, but Professor Dumbledore trusts him. I can’t see why you won’t give him the benefit of the doubt!”

“Because he’s a right awful git,” Ron said plainly in response.

Hermione made a disgusted noise and rolled her eyes. She opened her mouth to say more, but at that moment a crowd of first years tumbled through the portrait hole, cheeks flushed with the cold outside air, forcing the group to disperse, a decision about Ed unmade.

\---

Ed shifted in the mirror and adjusted the black tie around his throat. The tight vest, button down, and slacks were still a departure from his preferred style, but a far cry more natural feeling than the dress robes he’d worn the last time he’d attended a Malfoy party. Amah stood beside him and handed him his State Alchemist pocket watch, which he tucked into his belt, the watch clinking against Flamel’s heavy signet ring he still wore.

The house-elf had packed him a couple changes of clothes in the dark brown suitcase that rested on the floor beside him. Apparently, he’d been informed, “dinner” didn't really mean a “dinner” but was more traditionally a euphemism for a multi-night stay, meant to ensure a well thought through conclusion to a business venture. If Oliva hadn’t casually mentioned “losing him” for a few days, Ed would never have realized, and likely would have shown his hand as an imposter. It was a close call that served as a potentiate reminder of how fragile his situation really was.

Ed frowned at his reflection, he looked older. He hadn’t really noticed it when he’d been on the run with Greeling and the others. But he’d grown taller. He felt like he should feel proud, but all it served to do was make him sad. What if it took him years to get back? Would the others even recognize him?

With a sigh, Ed turned away and picked up his suitcase. Amah had lit the fireplace for him and all he needed to do was toss the Floo powder in before he could leave. “Can I do anything else for you Mister Elric?” she asked her eyes downcast.

“No, thanks though,” he said, sending a stilted nod her direction. "I’ll, uh, be seeing you.” Amah glanced up and gave him a small half smile and nodded. Ed cleared his throat, “Malfoy Manor.” he called out, and let the green flames swallow him up like a ravenous beast.

Ed exited the fireplace in what seemed to be a side parlor. The white marble beneath his feet was speckled with black to disguise any ash that escaped the fire. The drapes were heavy and blocked out the light, while the room itself had an odd sterileness to it that told Ed it was very seldom used.

Elia had told him the reason they had to go up to the main door last time he’d been here, was more for show. The fireplaces for locations like homes were usually enchanted to keep out anyone who wasn’t family or friend, but it wasn’t hard to change them to allow everybody in. No, the Malfoy’s just enjoyed the Circus of it all. Like all powerful people, they liked to watch others dance.

The door on the far wall opened smoothly as Ed finished swiping ash off the shoulders of his jacket. I small house elf walked through, his spin bent into a low bow. “This way please Master Elric.”

Ed did the best to regulate his footsteps by favoring his right leg. With the large halls empty as they were, the uneven rhythm of his steps was easy to detect. Ed did his best to keep his eyes forward as the unnerving sound of the portraits whispering amongst themselves surrounded him.

“One moment Sir,” the elf said with another low bow, excusing himself through another door and leaving Ed alone.

“You are splitting image of your father.” came a haughty voice from his left. The whispering silenced as he turned to the left facing the image of a young woman in an elaborate gown, and Malfoy white blonde hair.

“I beg your pardon?” Ed asked confusion painted clear across his face.

“Your father.” the woman said again, moving forward within her frame. “I’d know those golden eyes anywhere.”

Ed opened his mouth to ask- what he did not know- but the door the elf had disappeared through reopened, and Ed was beckoned along.

Ed bearly had a second to get his head on straight as he was met with a loud cry of - “Edward!” Lucius Malfoy strolled down the grand staircase in a clearly staged entrance. His voice sounding far more jovial then Ed had ever heard it. “I’m glad you could join us!” the aristocrat's cane clicked against the floor as he approached.

“Glad to have gotten the invitation,” Ed said, the fake smile coming to his face easily these days.

“But of course!” the new year has overtaken us rapidly and you and I have business to attend to.” Ed did his best not to flinch when the Death Eater's hand landed firmly on his shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind, but we have some guests at the manor. With Draco back at school, we had the extra room.” Lucius said, subtly pulling Ed along. Ed was fairly certain that there would have been extra rooms in the manor even if Draco had been there. In Fact, he felt a faint pang in his chest upon hearing the teenager wasn’t there, he felt as if he’d lost an ally or something.

“We pulled him out of school briefly to see our guests, but I’m afraid needs be and all, we couldn’t keep him out of school longer.”

“I understand.”

Lucius looked him over appraisingly, and then as if noticing something for the first time, he snapped out his house elf. “Cado! Take out guests bag up to his room.” the patriarch sent him a weak smile. “My apologies.”

Ed waved off the man's words as the elf relieved him of his luggage. “It’s not a problem.” Internally Ed was wincing, not able to imagine treating Amah that way, but aware that he couldn’t show it if he was to keep up impressions.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I have business to attend to before dinner. If you wish to freshen up, the elf can direct you to your room, and I believe you're aware of where our parlors are located after your last visit?”

“Yes, sir.”

The man laughed, the shake was barely detectable, but it was there nonetheless. “Lucius, Edward. We are friends after all?”

“Yes si- Lucius.” he conceded him a smile, though the lack of formalness felt odd and hollow like the man was trying to invent a relationship that didn’t exist.

“If, you’ll excuse me,” the wizard nodded his way and strolled off.

Ed let out a sigh, and made his way over to where he could have sworn was a library on his last visit. He’d never understand polite society.

\---

Ed sat flipping absentmindedly through a book in one of the Malfoy’s libraries. The fireplace beside him roared pleasantly, and if not for the underlying feeling of decay in the air Ed could almost forget where he was.

The book was nothing special, a vaguely dark volume Ed was fairly certain he had glanced over back in Grimmauld place, but unlike most of its contemporaries, the author here had at least recorded his findings in a vaguely scientific manner. It was a medical-esk collection of the effects of grindylow blood, which seemed to Ed to cause only varying levels of insanity in the subjects. Not the most pleasant reading material, but after scavenging through reports on the Fifth Laboratory he found that it didn’t bother him as much as it might once have. In fact, Ed found an almost a sick sense of satisfaction to see that some of the effects had been permanent. The idea that magic isn't infallible was almost comforting in a way.

“Hardly a pleasant topic for a boy your age now is it?” said a soft voice from behind him, seconds later he heard the library door close.

“I’m not reading it because it's pleasant,” Ed said, meeting Narcissa Malfoy’s eye. “I’m reading it because it's interesting and potentially useful.”

“You intend to drive a man mad sometime soon?”

“Potentially useful.” he corrected, giving her his full attention. “I have no plans such as of now, but you never know where the world's going to take you,” he said this, well aware of the irony of his statement.

Narcissa watched him, her face a mask of unreadable emotions. An amalgamation of two powerful wizarding families, Rosier and Black, and then married into another, Narcissa was the definition of good breeding. _What would they think of me if they knew the truth? The son of a slave and a commoner? They wouldn’t be able to throw me out fast enough._ The thought drew a grin on to his face.

It was far from the most powerful secret he knew, but it was one more thing he knew that they didn’t. And at this point, he would take anything he could get.

“Was there something you needed?” Ed asked, seamlessly changing his grin to something more genuine.

“Only to inform you that dinner will be starting shortly,” she said, giving him her own faux smile. In that moment there was a sense of connection between the two of them, an understanding of each others stance in this game. An underlying sense of self-preservation that transcended sides.

“I’ll be right there,” he said. As soon as the door shut behind her, Ed stood and shut his book without bothering to mark his page.

\---

Ed refused to be cowed as he entered the dining room, even as he recognized figures sitting along both sides of the table. He swallowed back the manic urge to laugh, recognizing that the action might be tantamount to suicide in his present company. Lucius, Narcissa, and Augustus Rookwood sat to the left, on the right- the infamous Bellatrix Lestrange, and then an open seat clearly intended for him, but at the head- there sat a man who could be no one other than Lord Voldemort himself.

In any case, Ed no longer had to worry about dinner being boring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed last week, life got hectic and the chapter was in no way ready to be posted.  
> Should be back on schedule now,  
> See you in the next one.


	32. The Darkening Night

 

Ed refused to let his steps falter as he made his way to the table. Inside his chest, his heart beat like a jackrabbit, and he was doing all he could, not to show the fear he felt. The air around the Dark Lord was congested and awful, and his magic radiated the stench of a body left out in the sun. It was cruel, and rotten, and not entirely human.

“Edward Elric,” Voldemort’s voice went straight to his spine, and it felt as if the wizard was whispering in his ear from beside him. “How good of you to join us.”

Ed’s jaw locked together and he gave a stilted nod, unsure of what words were the right ones for the situation. He glanced over at Lucius as he made his way towards his seat and found the man pointedly watching just over his shoulder. The underlying tension Ed had seen earlier had returned in full force, but now Ed understood. Lucius had set him up.

How had he figured it out? When? If he knew, why had it taken so long for the Death Eaters to act? Why invite him to dinner rather than just attack him at his home? Lucius’s eyes drifted to his for just a moment, and Ed watched as the man's eyes widened in fear before he jerked his vision away. With his head so full of questions, with the whys and hows, he’d lost track of his expression and the conniving bastard had gotten a full blast of complete and utter Elric malice.

A low chuckle filled his ears. Voldemort was laughing at him.

“It seems our young friend here, is not nearly as much a fan of yours as we were led to believe.” Lucius’s knuckles turned white as the Death Eater gripped the end of the table. Bellatrix Lestrange joined in her master's laughter, her voice loud and grating in Edward’s ears. Even Rookwood cracked a polite smile, though it was far from the manic and unhinged response of the woman beside him.

“Come, love,” She said, sending Ed smile tinged with madness. “Join the adults at the table.” Ed did as he was told, sliding out his designated seat and settling himself the best he could in his present company. Within the pocket of his pants, Ed’s wand hummed with energy, almost as if it had a mind of its own like it was gearing up for the inevitable fight to come.

Narcissa rang a small silver bell in front of her plate calling forth a banquet of food containing far more than the six of them could ever hope to eat. Following the others examples, he took only small portions of everything. It ensured he got to try all the dishes, but what was left over Ed was sure could still feed a small army.

The food, while looking excellent, tasted like ash in his mouth. The longer the room went without conversation the more it allowed Ed’s mind to focus on how off everything in there was. The magic in the room made his skin crawl, like being stuck in the moments before a transmutation rebounded. It was wrong.

“I understand you’re quite the talented Alchemist Master Elric.” It was maddening how casual Voldemort sounded as he split open the meat he was eating.

“Yes, Sir,” Ed responded, not trusting himself to speak more.

A feminine hiss filled his ears. “Yes My Lord.” Ed froze as thin pale fingers wrapped themselves tightly around his left wrist like they intended to remove his hand from its proper place. “You would do yourself well to remember your place boy.” Bellatrix's voice was quiet, but Ed would have had to have been a fool not to recognize the barely concealed rage in her words. “He is your Lord, not your peer.”

“Bella.” came a sharp admonition from further down the table. And like that, the spell was broken. The madwoman removed her hold, and Ed’s hand relaxed from the death grip he’d grabbed his wand with, seconds away from drawing it. “Our guest meant no disrespect did he now?” Voldemort said Ed’s way, with a smile that that contorted the mans burned features horrifically.

“Of course My Lord,” Ed said, his brain running a million different calculations in his head. Each one telling him the same thing, he was fucked. “My apologies.”

Voldemort laughed again, high and chilling. “Look at that, such courtesy. An advantage of a private education I would assume. In my day the young knew the proper way to address their betters, but now…” The Dark Lord let his sentence hang, and Ed was struck with a mad image of Voldemort shrugging as if to say ‘but what can we do?’ It was odd how human some of his mannerisms were like they should have belonged to a far more ordinary man. However, Ed was not fooled into thinking there was some inner goodness in the man before him, the septic magic that clung to him was proof enough that anything human in Lord Voldemort had died long ago.

But still, Ed was taken aback. If Voldemort had finally won their little game of cat and mouse why was he so relaxed? Why was he dining beside the Dark Lord instead of rotting in some dark cell as he had before? Was it- was it possible Voldemort still didn’t know who he was? Had Pyxis truly never told anyone who the golden-eyed boy was before he led his raid on Rosier Manor?

Ed would be lying if he wasn’t slightly amazed by the realization that right now, the one the dark lord wanted was not the golden demon he thought had been summoned, but him, Edward Elric.

“Your former master’s research was of some interest to me in my youth. I admit I found some of his more revolutionary discoveries rather- intriguing.”

Ed’s met the Dark Lord’s eyes completely for the first time, their motive clear as day. “Immortality.”

Someone in the room sucked in a breath as if they couldn’t believe the boldness of his statement. Putting an idea like that out there in the open without something to contribute- would most certainly be a death sentence. ‘Tread lightly kid,’ He could almost hear Mustang in his ear warning him away.

“It does have a certain ring to it.”

“Well, if there was one thing Flamel was never short on, it was years,” Ed said without breaking eye contact. Mustang again, ‘Good kid, let him hear you drop his title. Create an artificial weakness, give him something he can exploit. Cover the holes in your armor with illusions. Never give him something real.’

“And you? _Master_ Elric, will you be short on years?”

Ed hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I will do what I can with the years I have,” he paused. “Immortality has never been the goal for me.”

Silence. Voldemort looked almost disappointed. “Ah, I assumed someone with your name would find the prospect of an immortal life alluring.”

Ed gave a quiet hum in response to cover the strange murmur in the back of his mind that warned he was missing something.

“Of course, the Hohenheim's were more interested in intervening posthumously than taking preventive measures-” Ed missed the last few words of Voldemort’s sentence, his ears instead swimming with the words “intervening posthumously”. As bile rose in the back of his throat, and shadows of that thing they had created swam in his vision, Ed understood. Hoenheim had seen the possibility of magic just as he had, understood the possibilities of getting to play fast and loose with equivalent exchange. He'd seen the opportunity, he must have fucking reveled in it.

The Dwarf, The Xerxian library, the wait times in this world before he had opened the portal to come back? Hoenheim had truly gone above as beyond expectations. It made sense in a way Ed didn't want to think about, Ed didn't want to think about how tempted he would have been to do the same thing. He was trying to bring them back, all of them. His father had been looking for a way to resurrect Xerxes.

“So if not immortality, what did you lean under Flamel’s tutelage?”

Ed snapped back to the present and it took him a moment to recognize that he’d been asked a question. “Um- we focused primarily on combining magic and Alchemy together.”

To Ed’s surprise, it was Rookwood who spoke up in response. “You do not count Alchemy as magic?”

“Ah yes,” Voldemort cut in. “I did wonder about that.”

Ed felt the weight of their eyes on him. “It’s-” Ed hesitated considering his words carefully. “Alchemy while possessing its own power, has much stricter rules than magic. So while they’re related, I wouldn’t consider them one in the same.”

“Interesting.”

Ed sat in his chair, doing his best to remain relaxed, even as he felt like a prisoner awaiting his sentencing. “Lucius tells me he’s helping you enroll in Hogwarts.” the sudden change in topics threw Ed for a loop, and it took precious seconds for him to stammer out a response.

“Ye-yes, he is.” Ed risking a glance in the direction of Malfoy. “He tells me there is no finer place to get an education.”

“A true pillar of magical excellence.” The Dark Lord said in response, his voice carrying an even split of bitterness and exasperation, and something Ed almost wanted to call fondness. “Hogwarts has housed the birth of many great things Mr. Elric, but it can not teach you everything.”

Ed could almost see the hand extended towards him.

“Nor, can it provide you secretly.”

_A deal with the devil at the crossroads._

“You are in the unfortunate position of getting in rather late in the game. Battle lines have already been drawn, Allies chosen, and partnerships cemented.” Ed could see how so many people had flocked to Voldemort’s side, the man spoke with such surety that being in his presence, it was hard to image that he had lost the first war. “Even if you attend, in a few years time you will find yourself with a very harsh reminder of how little friends you really have. But we, Mr. Elric, we can help you.”

It was an impossible situation Ed knew. To say yes would be to put himself in the heart of his enemies and oppose him to what few friends he did have, but to say no would almost certainly mean his death.

Ed inclined his head, the hair on his neck rising. “I would like that much My Lord.” his voice came out hushed, and Ed suddenly felt very old. _I guess you can’t teach a dog new tricks._

And the deal was made.

\---

Voldemort was gone when Ed awoke the next morning, he could tell from the moment he opened his eye. Letting out a long breath, Ed squeezed his eyes shut so tightly it hurt. _This isn’t right_. He wished to Truth he had the guts to say no. To look Voldemort dead in the eye and tell him to fuck off and kill him if he must, but, that Edward, Hero of the Fucking People, Elric would never stoop so low as to join him.

But here he was,

_Again._

As much as he wanted to justify his actions by saying there were people depending on him, the same thing he’d done when he’d joined the military, he just couldn’t see his actions as anything more than self-serving. He’d been scared, he’d been the one afraid to die.

He liked to think he wasn’t afraid of death. As an alchemist, he recognized it as the next natural step in the great universal cycle, and when Scar had come for them, Ed had been more than willing to die there to save his brother. But here, so very far away from everything he loved, he was terrified.

He was scared to death of never seeing Al, or Winry, or Granny, or even the Colonel again. Of never getting to spend another night laughing around a fire with Greed’s gang, of never fixing everything that he’d broken. Ling had promised him that he would show Ed around Xing, claimed the palace had the biggest library in the world. Hawkeye had told him her door was always open for a midnight chat, and right now, he wanted that more than anything in the world.

He’d promised himself he would do whatever it took to get home, and in order to do that, he had to be alive. He had to survive this world and its wars, and get himself home in one piece. If that meant taking the wrong side of things for a while so be it. He would use every device in his power to climb higher, to reach further, to pull Truth down from the heavens to meet him, even if that meant clawing open The Gate with his own two hands. He would do it because he had to.

Because it was his job.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sorry I missed last week, I got busy with performances and the chapter didn't get done. It's a little shorter than normal, but I thought it was best to cut it off here. Also, super sorry I haven’t been responding to comments lately I still appreciate them beyond belief but I’ve been really busy lately.


	33. Flight of the Phoenix

Lucius made it sound so simple, giving Ed the feeling much of it had been arranged long before he’d ever agreed to anything. The Malfoy head assured him, with an air of confidence he certainly had not possessed a few days ago, that come September an acceptance letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would find its way into his hands. From there Ed would only be responsible for collecting his things and boarding the train on time. The only thing he needed from Ed before that could happen, was what he called a 'Simple test of magical aptitude'.

“Standard practice,” Malfoy assured him. Left from the days of Grindelwald, when families were being continently uprooted by the fighting. The disorganized state of the wizarding world made it hard to get a cohesive education so for a while, school year became more about ability rather than age.

“And who will be giving me this exam?” Ed asked he’d been dreading meeting up with any of the Order again, and Hogwarts was a hotbed for so much of their activity.

“The headmaster gives it traditionally.” He almost swore. “I shouldn’t worry though, I doubt you should have any troubles with it,” Lucius said, misinterpreting Ed’s displeasure.

Ed hummed a response, he had better check in with Oliva to make sure he was up to scratch before he tried his luck. He would have to be exceptional, after all, he wouldn’t put it past Dumbledore to fail him to keep him out of the way.

“I’ll send a letter to the school as soon as I get all your papers in order, I would expect the exam to fall sometime in late April.” Ed nodded, he could think of no logical reason to postpone it further.

“Thank you, Lucius,”

“No problem at all Edward.” the man responded, giving him the same tight smile he had been directing his way since the dinner party three night previous.

The dinner had made things… awkward around Malfoy Manor. The Dark Lord and his entourage had left much to Ed’s relief, but it did little to settle the tension with Lucius and Narcissa. Lucius had resumed his normal slimy facade, but beneath it was a wariness that hadn’t been there before. His wife, on the other hand, was the perfect host, drawing frightening parallels to the matriarch of the Armstrong clan, and Ed was wary of spending too much time alone with her. Unsure of what she was capable of.

Ed wandered back to the guest room he’d been given to stay in, lost in his thoughts. He needed to have Olivia run through educational standards with him when he got home. He’d kinda skipped the basics with Flamel, and he had a feeling there was a lot he still needed to look over-

“It’s really quite funny how similar you look.”

Ed whipped around as a voice called to him from his left. There placed on the wall hung a portrait of the Malfoy woman who had spoken to him the entry hall. “Who are you?” Ed asked, glancing around the room warily.

“Margaret Alice Greengrass,” She said, extending her hand outwards as if to shake his, from within the confines of her painting. “Malfoy by birth though, my elder brother is the namesake of the families current… fearless leader.” Her last words her overladen with sarcasm, and she shook her head in obvious annoyance.

“Margaret!” another voice hissed warningly. “Watch what you say. Do you want your painting put in storage?” the newest painting, one of a dark-haired woman with a sharp chin, glanced quickly between Margaret and Ed with obvious paranoia.

“Mother,” Margaret responded with a sigh. “When was the last time you even saw a member of the household in this wing?”

The woman frowned looking rather put out. “Well, at the very least stop hanging around that Hoenheim boy. It won't end well. Mark my words!” and with that, she marched out of her painting in a huff disappearing behind her frame.

"That's not by name," Ed said, trying to come off less irritated than he felt.

“She wasn’t talking about you,” Margaret said, breaking the silence. “She thinks you’re your father.” Ed looked at her, confusion written across his face. She went on, “The Lestrange madness didn't pass her over I’m afraid, not even in this form.”

“But why my father?” Ed asked, choosing to ignore the madness commit for now.

“Hmmm? Oh, because I knew him. When I was real, I mean. Back in the 16th century.”

“If it was so long ago-”

“If it was so long ago how did I know you were his son?” Ed nodded. “Because I know your father is immortal, and you look far too much like him to be anything else.”

“How do you know what my father is?” Ed asked her, not able to remove all the wariness from his voice. If she knew this, what else could she be aware of and why had his father associated with Malfoy’s?

“Because my fiance killed him of course.”

Ed blinked his eyes, the words not quite registering. “I’m sorry, did you say he killed him?”

“Yes, yes I did.” She said with a smile, and Ed was growing painfully aware that the Malfoy was taking quite a bit of pleasure from getting a rise out of him. “It was the 16th century,” she said with a shrug. “We were friends, Adam was jealous. One thing led to another and next thing I knew Theo was lying dead on the floor.” she paused. “And then he wasn’t.”

“You were friends?” Ed said, trying to find the best place to start with that response.

“Sure, I’ve always enjoyed intelligent conversation. And he had so many new ideas, It just happened.” Ed had a sinking feeling there was more to that than she was letting on, but the understanding that it was her jealous fiance had apparently killed Hoenheim was enough information that Ed was content not asking for details.

“I must say I was taken aback when I saw you here.” Margaret said, “It was like seeing a ghost.” she looked at Ed studying his features intently. “He was gone only a day after Adam killed him, said it was the time him to go home, I’d almost convinced myself it was all a dream.” Ed nodded, beginning to feel uncomfortable under the weight of her scrutinization. “You know the things he was into right? Your father I mean?”

“Resurrection,” Ed said, fighting down the memories the word inspired.

She hummed in agreement. “Obsessed with it really, said he was looking to write a wrong. I’d always figured he’d accidentally killed a girlfriend or something.”

“That wasn’t it.” Ed couldn’t help but interject.

“Yes well,” she pursed her lips together into a thin line. “He never did manage it." she paused. "Managed to do quite a bit else though.”

“What’s that?”

“Have you- Have you ever hear of creatures called Inferi?”

Ed nodded, he had. He’d read a page on them and had to leave the room the throw-up. The image of his mother's reformed body had weighed too heavily on the forefront of his mind to continue.

“All spells originate somewhere,” she said softly, her voice just above a whisper. “He was a good man your father, but he- sometimes he went too far.”

\---

Harry watched as the air swam with Patronuses of all shapes and sizes. Ron’s terrier chased Hermione's Otter around the outskirts of the room, and Cho stood watching her swan, mouth open in awe. Neville had only managed a thin silver mist, but even that was impressive and Harry made sure to tell him as much. Seamus let at a whoop as a silver fox fled from his wand, and Dean crashed into him in an enthusiastic hug knocking his friend to the group causing Luna to break into a hysterical fit of laughter. Then, a loud crack echoed throughout the room bringing everything to a sudden stop.

The room dimmed as Patronuses went out as their casters turned their attention to a small elf hunched over in the center of the room.

“Dobby?” Harry said approaching the small elf in concern. “Is everything alright?”

Dobby looked up at him, his eyes frighteningly wide and watery. He opened and closed his mouth several times as if unable to speak before managing a whisper of, “Harry… Potter…”

“Dobby?”

“She-” Dobby let out a small moan as if in pain. “She. Knows.”

Harry felt his chest constrict with fear. “Who-?” But Harry wasn’t able to get the words all the way out, before Dobby threw himself into the nearest wall, only spared the pain of the collision by the elf clothes Hermione had knitted. Two girls gave cries of fright as Dobby redoubled his efforts to crack his skull open on the stones, only stopping as Harry wrenched him back, holding him in place by his shoulders. “Dobby! Dobby stop that!”

“I can’t! I’m not supposed to tell!”

“Dobby Please!” Harry said, giving the elf a little inadvertent shake.

Dobby starred up at him and it was as if all of the DA held their breaths. “Umbridge.” he breathed out, shrinking back as if he expected to get smacked.

“Dobby,” Harry spoke with barely contained calm, his hands beginning to shake. “Does she know about this?”

The elf gave a single nod, the effort of which sent him into tears.

“Dobby, Is. She. Coming.” Silence rang in his ears and it felt as if a million years had passed before Dobby let out a small breathless-

“Yes.”

Harry drew in a ragged breath as his eyes raised to meet those of the frozen DA members. “Run,” he said, not really conscious of the word leaving him.

No one moved.

“RUN YOU, IDIOTS!” Harry bellowed. This time it was as if someone had run an electrical current through the members; the world unfroze and chaos descended on the exit.

“Harry! Harry let’s go!” Hermione wrapped her hand tightly around his arm and pulled him, breaking the spell that held him in place.

“Dobby!” he yelled over his shoulder as he fled. “Get to the kitchens! This is an order! If Umbridge asks, you never left!” Dobby let out a little sob, staggering almost drunkenly behind the students. “Go!” Harry screamed.” almost missing his choked out thank you over the din before the little elf disappeared.

He lost sight of Hermione as he ran, and in the distance, he saw a head of Weasley red hair turn down a corridor, though, which sibling it was Harry couldn’t tell-

_“FACIT IN INTERITUM!”_

Harry gasped as his feet were knocked out from under him, sending crashing to the corridor floor.

“PROFESSOR! PROFESSOR, I GOT ONE!” Harry’s ears rang from his fall, as his vision went shifty as he was hauled harshly to his feet. Umbridge muttered gleefully to herself as she pulled Harry along after her. Frantically Harry thought of his friends. Who had been caught? Was everyone okay?

Umbridge hissed the password to Dumbledore’s office, sending the stone guardians flying out of their way. “Look who I have!” she cried smugly as she shoved Harry into the room ahead of her. He caught himself before he could fall, and as his eyes raised, he realized just how many people there were.

Fudge was rocking on his feet like a child, Percy poised at his shoulder ready to write anything the Minister might dictate. At his other side stood Kingsley, stoic as always, and beside him, a rough looking man Harry didn’t recognize.

“-Lucius’s son?” Harry came back to his senses as the Minister responded to something Umbridge had said. “I’ll have to be sure to tell him next time I see him. We have a meeting scheduled for tomorrow actually.” This last part he muttered mostly to himself. “Well then Potter, I take it you know why you’re here?”

Harry pulled back his lips in a sneer ready to spit out a defiant Yes when he caught sight of Dumbledore. The shake of his head was barely noticeable, and it hurt a little to realize that even after a year of the man ignoring him Harry still looked to him for cues.

“No.”

Fudge blinked at him in confusion. “I beg your pardon, did you say you don’t know?”

“Haven’t a clue.” Harry couldn’t but lean in challenging as plastered his face with a mask of innocence.

Fudge’s face was rapidly becoming a rather impressive shade of red. “Do you mean to tell me, that you, Harry Potter, were unaware of breaking school or ministry regulations?”

“Yes.”

The Minister opened his mouth to say something outraged but was briskly cut off by Umbridge as she signaled to bring in their informant, someone Harry himself was very eager to meet.

“Now then dear, come along now,” then sickeningly sweetness on Umbridge's voice drew bile to Harry’s throat as he watched her corral Cho’s friend Marietta into the room. The girl's eyes were red with tears, the rest of her face concealed beneath her robes. “Ms. Edgecomb here has been ever so helpful Minister, I’m sure she would be more than willing to tell you what she confided in me only a little bit ago?”

But despite Umbridge's prodding the girl only shook her head frantically and pulled her Ravenclaw robes higher as if she intended to disappear entirely.

“Come now, be a good girl and tell us what you know.” The Minister said, in what Harry assumed was supposed to be a sympathetic tone. Whatever it was though, it seemed to have worked and Marietta slowly lowered he robes revealing the word SNEAK embossed across her face in boils. As the girl opened her mouth to speak, Harry braced himself for her damning words only to be met with silence.

“Ms. Edgecomb?” Fudge prompted. “You were telling us about this illegal organization you informed Professor Umbridge about?”

“I was?” she said quietly, almost to herself. “But I don’t know anything about something like that.”

“What!” Shrieked Umbridge, rounding on the girl. Marietta gave a little cry as the witches stubby fingers took hold of her shoulders and shook. Dumbledore shot to his feet behind his desk and Kingsley took a full step towards the pair.

“Dolores you will unhand my student!” Even though Dumbledore’s rage was hardly directed at him, Harry felt the headmasters words all the way down to his bones

Kingsley raised a hand solemnly towards her, “Calm yourself Madam Umbridge,” His deep voice the antithesis of Dumbledore's seething rage. “You don’t want to get yourself in trouble now.”

“But the meeting- the one that happened- we know the meeting tonight happened correct?” Fudge said plowing forward uncowed by Umbridge's aggressive behavior.

“Yes,” she said straightening herself back out. “That we certainly do.” She took a few steps towards the Minister and drew a piece of Parchment from within her robes, “And I have all their names right here.” Fudge accepted the paper to Harry’s dawning horror, “As soon as I saw Potter’s name I knew exactly what it meant.”

“Excellent… Excellent.” Fudge murmured not really listening, too caught up in the value of what he held. “...By God.” Fudges eyes slowly roamed upward to meet the headmasters gaze and Harry paled as he realized what it was that Fudge had noticed. There written clear as day across the top were the damning words “Dumbledore’s Army”.

Dumbledore glanced down at the parchment and Harry was overcome by the urge to break down in apologies, Everything from here on out was entirely his fault.

“Well, it appears the game is up.” Harry’s eyes shot up and found Dumbledore smiling mildly. “Do you want a written confession, or I have I said enough in front of witnesses?” Kingsley and McGonagall’s fear was barely concealed beneath their stoic expressions.

“I- you,” Fudge stuttered. “You have been plotting against me!”

“That’s right,” Dumbledore said, sounding almost pleased with himself.

“You’ve recruited- recruited an army?” The Minister sounded incredulous almost as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying either.

“Quite right.”

“NO!” Harry yelled in panic, suddenly understanding what was happening before him. McGonagall shot him a warning look, but it did no good. “No- Sir, please!” Harry pleaded.

“Quiet now Harry,” Dumbledore said without glancing his way.

“Yes! Shut up Potter!” Fudge said, shoving past him to face Dumbledore fully. “Weasly!”

“Yes, Sir?”

“I take it you have everything written down there?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Well then,” Fudge chuckled with an almost manic grin splayed across his face, “Send an Owl to the Prophet at once!”

“Yes, Sir!” Percy said almost giddily, and for the first time, Harry felt genuine hatred towards a member of the Weasley’s.

“Now then Dumbledore,” Fudge began as soon as Percy exited the room. “I think you and I will very shortly be saying our goodbyes from within Azkaban!”

“Ah,” Dumbledore said, and the room seemed to drop several degrees, “I thought that might become an issue.”

“Issue? What Issue?”

“Well, you see my dear Minister, I will not be accompanying you anywhere.” he fixed the assembled officials with a small smile. “It would simply be a waste of my time.”

Fudge grit his teeth in anger. “Take him!” he spat.

Harry’s vision whited out as the room was suddenly consumed with light. Someone screamed, and a loud crack carried throughout the room causing his ears to ring as if he’d been struck. A hand closed around his neck and Harry was given no time to fight it before he was shoved to the ground harshly. A second flash filled the room, even brighter than the first. Glass shattered, Fawkes screeched, and someone yelled, the sound of their voice was abruptly cut off by the sound of a body hitting the floor.

Harry blinked dust out of his eyes and the noise stopped and found that it was McGonagall who had forced him to the ground.

“Are you all alright?” Dumbledore said, as Harry, along with Marietta were hulled to their feet. McGonagall nodded, assuring him that they were. “Now we don’t have much time before they wake-”

“Professor,” Harry tried to cut in.

“-Now you must act as if no time has passed-”

“Professor!” Dumbledore turned on him, and Harry shrunk back despite himself.

“You must practice Occlumency Harry!” the headmaster grabbed ahold of Harry’s wrist sending waves of pain through his scar. “You must!” Fudge began to stir, and Dumbledore released him. “Close your mind, Harry- you will understand!” and with that, Fawkes dove down low over him and they both disappeared.

“Where did he go!” Fudge cried, his frantic search quickly joined by the other members of his entourage. But Harry knew, it didn’t matter where they looked, Dumbledore was out of any of their reaches now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really really didn't want such a long wait between chapters, but access to my computer has been somewhat limited recently.  
> We're coming up on the home stretch for this fic, so I would expect no more than five-ish chapters still to go.


	34. The Calm

Olivia’s bar was a welcome sight after a week at the Malfoy’s. The bright roughness of it was a refreshing change, and being back within its walls meant Ed was allowed to remember how magic was supposed to feel.

Olivia welcomed him back with a hug, an act that took him by surprise. Even as he endeavored to keep his right arm from crushing her spine, he couldn’t help but sink into her grasp, his head fitting neatly under her chin. After a week around Death Eaters, it was easy to forget about genuine human kindness. Realizing how long he'd held the embrace, Ed detangled himself from her grasp and straightened up.

“Ed?” she asked him, her eyes shining with concern. “Is everything alright?”

He blinked rapidly to clear their sudden burning. “Yeah- yes, everything's fine.” his voice stuck more than he liked. She nodded, but Ed knew she didn’t quite believe him.

“Grab a table and I’ll bring you drink,” she said, giving his left shoulder a light squeeze. Ed nodded, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as he walked to the far corner of the room. Ashley gave him a stiff nod, which Ed returned, from behind the bar as he patiently listened to the story an elderly witch was telling him.

“Here you go,” she said, as the base of the glass mug she'd brought connected with the surface of the table Ed had settled it.

He glanced at her warily over the edge of the drink, taking particular note of its size. “Are you trying to get me drunk?” he asked, squinting his eyes a bit. He’d gotten drunk before, back when Mustang had taken them all out for drinks at Madam Christmas’s. The Lieutenant had needed to leave after an hour, and with her gone, there was no one left to dissuade Havoc from challenging him to a drinking contest. It was that night Ed had learned that missing two limbs, and therefore a lot of body weight, somewhat… affected how easy it was for him to get drunk. He’d awoken the next morning on the Colonel’s couch, the man in question passed out at the table nearby.

“Relax,” she said rolling her eyes. “It’s only Daisyroot.” Ed didn't actually know what that was, but she hadn’t steered him wrong yet.

“Can I ask a favor of you?” Ed said, setting his mug down. The drink it seemed was aptly named, as his mouth was flooded by a distinctly flowery aftertaste.

“Sure,” she said, resting her forearms on the wooden table.

“I’m- I have a, sorta test coming up and I was hoping you could help me out with it.”

“What sort of test?”

“Magical aptitude,” Ed said, watching her eyes for a reaction.

“What y’need that for?”

“I’m actually looking at getting enrolled at Hogwarts next year.” He said, watching her for a reaction. She didn’t say anything for a moment, but soon her face broke into a wide smile, dominating her expression.

“Really? That’s great Ed!”

“That’s where I’ve been actually,” he said, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “Getting things in order. The last thing I need to do is this magical aptitude test, and I’m kinda worried I won’t be able to do it.

“Oh?”

“I mean, you’ve noticed that some of my basics are kinda…”

“Nonexistent?”

“Yeah. I was hoping you could help me shore up some of that before I have to take it.”

“Of course Ed,” she said waving her hand dismissively. “I’ve still got my old school books in the back somewhere- I mean, I’m sure some of them are out of date, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Wait? Why are you’re school books here? At the pub?”

She blinked at him in confusion. “Because I live here?”

“Oh.” Ed said sheepishly, “I feel like that’s something I really should have picked up on by now.

She sighed and leaned across the table to ruffle his hair, an action he only half fought. “Why do you think we have all the weird protections on the place?” she asked.

“I don’t know!” Ed groaned “I just kinda thought you were quirky? And liked watching people get really confused by the doors?”

Olivia laughed, and Ed couldn’t help but join in. He paused for half a second to wonder if his emotional exhaustiveness or the alcohol was to blame for how light the conversation was making him feel. “They’re actually left over from the first wizarding war,” she said, her expression mellowing out. “I’ve downgraded them a lot since then, but my parents ingrained their paranoia in me deep enough, I can’t quite bring myself to get rid of them all.” Ed thought of the man he’d met only days ago, and couldn’t help but be glad for Olivia’s preparedness. These protections might be the only thing separating her from death in a short while if everything went according to the Dark Lords plans.

“My parent’s set the bar up as a safe house,” she said continuing. “It use to move and everything, we had code words that changed weekly, and warding up the ass. As a kid, I was terrified of leaving because I worried that if I forgot the word I would never find my home again.”

“You must have been really young,” Ed said, looking at her with realization.

“I was born during the third year In one of the back rooms, my parents couldn’t risk leaving to go to a hospital. I was eight when it ended, and even three years later when it was time for me to go to school, my parents almost didn’t let me, so worried about what would happen if they let me out of their sight.”

he nodded in understanding, Ed had been nine when the Ishvalan Civil war ended. He could remember watching as he grew up as the fighting grew steadily closer, and how the Rockbell’s always seemed to have a never-ending supply of patients to operate on. He could remember seeing soldiers on stretchers being loaded on trains as he made his way to school. Even more clearly he could remember the look on Winry’s face when she found out her parents weren’t ever coming back, and he understood Olivia’s parent's actions. He certainly knew he would do whatever it took to save a loved one.

\---

Olivia whistled appreciatively as Ed use alchemy to produce a wooden training dummy at the far end of the bar.

“What d’ya think Ash?” she called over her shoulder where Ashley was cleaning out the till.

“Great,” he said, barely sparing them a glance. “Put it back when you’re done.”

Olivia waved off his disinterest and leaned over to whisper in Ed’s ear, “Oldest of seven syndrome,” she said, nodding with mock seriousness. “Forever stuck in a state of running damage control.” Ed played along with his own overly serious shake of his head as he slid his wand out of his pocket, thinking of a particular blonde sniper that might relate to Ashley's innate micromanaging tendencies.

“Okay,” she said pulling away. “Let's start off with a simple severing spell then,”

Ed squared his shoulders to the dummy and raised his wand, its faint hum, by now as normal to him as the clicks created by his metal limbs as he walked. _“Diffindo!”_ he said, flicking his wrist in a backward N motion.

The faint green of the spell impacted the center of the dummy taking out a decent sized gash of wood. "Well done,” Olivia said, looking over his work appraisingly. “Try it again, this time aiming for the arm. A spell like this that's meant to sever looks a good deal less impressive if it doesn’t actually do what it’s supposed to."

Ed nodded and reset himself and cast the spell again, this time adjusting the aim of his wand to the right. Now, as the spell impacted, the wooden limb dropped to the ground with a satisfying thump, leaving the dummy one limb closer to being a reflection of Ed’s own sorry state.

“Good,” she said picking the severed piece of wood from the floor. “Now reattach it.”

Ed racked his brain for the spell as Olivia adjusted her grip so that the wood matched up with its original location. _“Reparo,”_ at his words a pale light consumed the break, erasing it from existence.

“Well, at least we know you can help clean up what we break,” she muttered under her breath.

“Break? What are we-” Ed’s words were cut off as Olivia sent a blast of pale green his way. With a squawk Ed threw himself into a roll, letting the table behind him take the hit. “What the hell!”

_“Levicorpus!”_ she called and Ed ducked out of the way again, not liking the sound of that in the slightest.

_“Diffindo!”_ His aim was off and the spell soared over her head, resulting in a cry of protest from Ashley.

Ed cursed as he just barely got out of the path of a stunner, it’s red light creating sunspots in his vision. His shoulder smarted as it impacted the ground, and Ed hurled his response through gritted teeth. Olivia gave what sounded like an appreciative whistle as she was almost thrown into the air, her quick reflexes saving her at the last moment.

“What is this? Ed hissed planting his feet firmly on the ground, facing her.

“Well,” she said bouncing on her toes, keeping herself in constant motion. “You’re smart Ed, you really truly are. A genius even I'd wager. But you my friend, are far to slow on the draw.” her face split into a grin and a blast of yellow light once again landed Ed on the offense.

_“Protago!”_ Ed caught the incoming spell at the last second, Olivia’s attack shattering upon impact. _“Immobulus!”_ Olivia danced out of the way of the attack, but the ends of her long black hair were caught up in the blast to gravity-defying effect. With a flick of her wand, she sent a table sliding across the floor at him at breakneck speed. Ed charged, leaping over the projectile with a grin painted across his face, his golden eyes alive with flame full engaged in the duel now. _“Stupefy!”_

Olivia’s eyes widened as she realized in that instant that she wouldn’t have time move. He’d won. For a moment time seemed to slow as his momentum continued to carry him forward, and from the corner of his eye, he watched her slash her wand upward, no words escaping her mouth. The next thing he knew, Ed found himself blinking sluggishly up at the ceiling.

“Back with us?” Olivia’s voice came from the left, sounding distorted as if underwater.

“What happened?" Ed muttered, slowly picking himself up into a sitting position.

“She blocked your stunner is what happened.” Came the gruff voice of Ashley from his position behind the bar. “Never stand right in front of your opponent kid, they cast a shield against you, you’re screwed.”

“No way,” Ed said shaking his head. “There’s no way you had enough time.”

“The beauties of nonverbal spellcasting,” Olivia said, hauling him to his feet.

Ed let out a groan and dropped his head backward. He’d seen nonverbal magic with the Flamels of course, but not since- and while he was loathed to admit it, he’d forgotten it existed.

“Will I need to know that?” Ed asked, bracing for the worst.

“Nah," she said. "I mean, eventually they’ll try and teach you. But, a lot of people never get the hang of it, and a lot can only do it if they’re concentrating or doing something simple.” she shrugged. “No way they’ll expect that from you at the test.” Ed let out a breath of relief. He was beyond intrigued by the practicality alone of nonverbal magic, but even with his genius status, he didn’t have time to master an entire magical discipline before the test.

“I really wasn’t planning to pull it out in the first place.” Olivia said after a moment, “I wasn’t joking about you being slow, but by the end there…” she let her words hang. “Your ability to adapt is going to save your arse one of these days Ed.”

He let out a breathy laugh, if only she knew.

Things moved quickly from there, and Ed spent almost every evening at the pub training, and on occasion, dueling with Olivia. And though she was yet to be successful, Ed figured it was only a matter of time before she needled Ashley into joining them.

Ed felt more than a little guilty putting aside Flamel’s journals, as he was, for the time being, functionally ignoring his duties to his home. But the one time he had tied to work after returning from the pub, The Dwarf had all but refused to work with him. The painting claimed that Ed’s exhaustion made him useless to him, and that, in his state, he would do more to hurt their efforts than help. And while he hated to agree, every second he argued the heavier his eyelids grew.

...He was starting to think that The Dwarf and Amah had been conspiring while he was out to make him sleep more.

Around the middle of the month, Ed had another bought of his strange illness, which rendered him all but useless at its peak. The days leading up to it, he spent slumped over his desk slowly making his way through the pages of Flamel’s journals, until even the slight motion of his automail sent his arm and leg singing with phantom pains.

Amah brought him soup in the evening, and while he was fully aware of her skills as a chef, even the smell of it turned his stomach. As he lay limply in bed, he watched through the sweaty fringe of his hair as Mustang did paperwork. The ghost of the Colonel’s desk overlapping the figure of his dresser, blending them together until Ed couldn’t tell where the hallucination ended and reality began.

“Hey bastard,” Ed mumbled, watching as the Colonel eyed the poorly concealed whiskey beneath his desk. “How is everyone? Is everyone still okay?” but his words were so slurred that even if Mustang had been real, Ed doubted his superior would have been able to make out anything he was saying.

At some point, Ed was caught in a feverish haze when he heard the familiar clinking of an armored body. “Al!” Ed yelped shooting up in bed. The clinking grew louder as the sheets tangled with the heaviness of his automail. “Al! Wait! Where are you?” A faint golden light filled the space at the end of his bed, and as he stretched out to touch it, a metallic tang filled the air.

_“I’ll see you soon Brother.”_ the words echoed in his ears without them ever being spoken, insubstantial and thought like. _“Only a while longer till the Promise Day.”_ then the light began to fade, and with it, the warmth and security the glow brought.

“Wait! No, Al come back! Al!” Ed collapsed forward, his flesh arm giving out under his weight and burying his face in the covers. A lump built in his throat as he lay there, and as much as he wished he could blame it on his illness, he knew the growing burn behind his eyes had nothing to do with his fever. But all Ed could do was lay there, and just wait till the worst had passed, knowing he was no closer to his brother than he’d been a month ago.

_Hogwarts though_ ; there did lay new possible dangers. But, everyone he'd spoken to seemed to agree in their own way, that there also laid the possibility of success. The success he desperately needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, another chapter closer to the end.   
> Next weeks forecast warns of pink toads.


	35. Dear Mr. Elric

The letter came early the morning after Ed was finally able to drag himself out of bed again. It sat unopened on the dining room table staring at him unassumingly throughout breakfast. Ed returned this, with a glare intent on setting the paper ablaze. He still hadn’t gotten within a foot of it, too disgusted by just how Pink it was. The envelope carried a sickening sent to it, like a young girl who really hadn’t figured out how much perfume was too much. The synthetic sent of roses seemed to drip off everything in the room, making Ed’s toes curl.

Mr. E Elric  
The Hoenheim Estate  
St. Andrews,   
The Kingdom of Fife,   
Scotland

Was printing across the envelope in flowing girly handwriting that had never made Ed hate his name so much. With reluctance, he reached out and retrieved it from where Amah had left it.

Dear Mr. E Elric,  
  
It has come to my attention through a mutual friend of ours that you, Mr. Elric, are interested in attending our prestigious school of magic. We are honored of course that a young wizard of your caliber, being the former apprentice of Master Nicholas Flamel, would grace our ancient halls with your presence.   
However, as I am sure you are well aware, both Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic has a strict policy regarding the transfer of students into magical programs within the MoM’s jurisdiction to carefully ensure quality among our pupils (who we eagerly hope you will soon join). As such, we humbly request your presence at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on April the 24th in order to conduct your entrance exam.

Sincerely Yours,  
Dolores Umbridge  
High Inquisitor and Headmistress,  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Well shit. Ed dropped the letter back down on the table, his head cocked to the side as he tried to reason through this most recent development. “Amah!” he called out, barely flinching as she came into existence with a loud crack.

“Yes, Sir?”

“I- Weird question, but, has there been anything in the news about Albus Dumbledore recently? I haven't really read the papers in ages-”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And?”

“Albus Dumbledore has been charged with plotting to overthrow The Ministry of Magic Sir, however, he escaped capture, and was last spotted in the forests of Albania.”

“Huh,” Ed said, raising a brow. “Go figure.” While he couldn’t claim to know Master Flamel’s friend very well, this seemed decidedly out of character for the eccentric old man. “And this… Dolores Umbridge?”

“Former Under Secretary to the Minister, appointed Hogwarts Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, later promoted to Hogwarts High Inquisitor-”

"- a Real cheery name that-”

“And in the Former Headmasters absence, the Ministry has inducted her as the Headmistress of Hogwarts over concerns about Dumbledore’s successor Minerva McGonagall's loyalty.”

Ed scrubbed his hand over his face. “So… Ministry interference then.” he sighed. “I know a cock and bull story where I hear one. I’ve been involved in too many not to recognize government officials rewriting events. From what I’ve gathered since I’ve been here, Dumbledore and Potter aren't exactly in favor at the moment… So? What? Overthrow Dumbledore? But to what end?” But then Ed paused, did it really matter? Dumbledore out of the way of him was great. Clearly, this woman had no idea who he was beyond Lucius’s introduction, and from her writing, it seemed she was almost salivating at the thought of adding a famous name to Hogwarts collection of student gems.

But was she a Death Eater?

Dumbledore had known he was trying to get back home to Amestis. In fact, he was one of only three who knew of his ambitions. That fact would work in his favor if Dumbledore had still been in charge. If he’d been allowed into the school, the old headmaster would probably have been more willing to cast a blind eye on his activities. But if Umbridge was a Death Eater…

“Amah?”

“Yes, Master Elric?”

“I’m not sure you can help me with this, but, do you know anything about Dolores Umbridge?”

She hesitated for a second, tilting her head to the side as if collecting her thoughts. “The paper gave a brief overview of her career. Would that be helpful?”

“Possibly,” Ed said nodding his head. “You you think you could get me a copy?” he asked hopefully.

“One moment Sir,” she said with a low bow, disappearing with a crack.

Umbridge being a Death Eater would make sense as she was “friends” with Malfoy, and it would make keeping his identity a secret decidedly more difficult. However, he doubted everyone at the party he’d attended with Elia was a full-blown Death Eater and they’d been “friends” too.

Ed turned his head as a crack signaled Amah’s reappearance, “Here’s the paper the article was published in.”

“Thanks,” Ed said, accepting it from her tiny hands. “You can go now, I’ll call if I think I need anything else.” She bowed low, her long nose nearly scraping the floor, and disappeared. He’d been trying to break some of her more subservient habits, the inherent nature of house-elves still making him rather uncomfortable, but the magic that was wrapped intrinsically with their being, made change hard.

Flipping open the paper, Ed was met with the face of a rather short, squat witch, mugging for the camera as unseen flashes illuminated her. Even as he rustled the paper to better read the captions below, the magically animated figures failed to deviate from their loops, revealing the decidedly lesser enchantment that brought them to life.

DOLORES UMBRIDGE -- HEADMISTRESS APPOINTEE! Ed scanned through the headlines with growing frustration, quickly realizing the story was little more than a ministry puff piece. Of course, most of Amestris major news outlets were state-run, so coming from him it was fairly hypocritical, but it didn’t stop him from feeling frustrated with how useless it all was.

Ed scrubbed his hand across his face, it was hardly like he could ask Malfoy to pick up the information for him- and It wasn’t like he had any other contacts in the Min- Wait. That wasn’t quite true…

Sliding out of his seat, Ed turned, making his way up the long grand stairway to his office. Grabbing a quill in one hand, and a handful of parchment in the other, Ed began to scribble down to the best of his legibility his request.

Ed let out a sigh, as he signed his name, brushing his hair back and smudging ink across his forehead. “Amah!”

“Yes, sir?”

“Where can I find an Owl?”  
  
\---

One night, about a month into their partnership, Ling had told them all stories about Xing. He described the foreign countryside with a wistful longing that had made Ed crave his room in Resembool. And as much as the price had loved his country, and his clan, nothing he said carried the same weight as when he’d talked about the capital and the Royal castle from which his father ruled.

It wasn’t with love that Ling spoke of the place, but with a deep-seated respect for its history and beauty. He described the palace with its sweeping roofs and vibrant reds and gold, detailing its long hallways lined with rice paper doors that he had played among when he was sent to see his father. And for Ed, who had never seen such a place, Ling’s description placed in his mind the height of grandeur.

Well, if there was one thing Ed could say about Hogwarts, it certainly was impressive.

The Malfoy’s, the Rosier’s, The Armstrong’s, the Bradley’s, hell, even him these days, help estates to behold. They were, in Ed’s opinion more works of art than actual homes, though he supposed that could be nostalgic for his old home on the hill In Resembool. Ling’s father’s palace stood a good dozen steps above any of those. And while Hogwarts may have failed to compete with the glitz of the Xingese royal family, Ed would be hard pressed to believe the place carried as immense a presence as the building before him now.

He approached the castle now, via a small village called Hogsmeade that he could vaguely remember Sirius talking about as he regaled Ed with stories of his school days with Remus and Harry’s father. It possessed the same magical energy that seemed to sing within the walls of Olivia’s pub, and where this would have once caused him discomfort, now Ed relaxed back into the flow, allowing the sensation of magic to wash over him. Even without looking Ed could almost feel the movement of the street as the paths the magic traveled were impeded like a dammed river.

As he began his way up the path connecting the village to the school, Ed was greeted by the sight of Lucius, his pale hair a stark contrast to the vibrant spring colors begin to appear.

“I was beginning to think you’d lose your way,” Malfoy stated though Ed knew from his watch he was still several minutes early.

“Sorry,” Ed said, brushing his hair aside. “I must have gotten distracted, new place and all.”

“Yes, well, I imagine you’ll have the opportunity to become rather closely acquainted with it in the next few years,” he said, his tone telling Ed exactly what Lucius Malfoy thought of small-town life.

“We can hope,” he replied with a tight smile. The mention of a few years causing his hand to tighten almost involuntarily.

“Shall we go? Dolores will be waiting for us.”

“Of course,” Ed said, signaling for the Malfoy to lead the way. Copying a move he’d seen Mustang make a dozen times when he wanted to give someone the appearance of being in control.

The walk to the school was nice, even if the destination wasn’t nearly as relaxing as the green surrounding him. But what it most importantly served to do, was give Ed a moment to collect his thoughts.

The letter that Amah had brought him that morning had no signature attached, but Ed knew it couldn’t be from anyone else but Bones. The dossier included with the note contained a careful write up of everything Umbridge had done since her internship with the ministry in her post-school years. Every carefully cultivated promoting and power play copied down for his viewing pleasure. He tipped his hat to Flamel, his old master had found himself one hell of a lawyer. But most importantly, however, it didn’t appear that Umbridge was a Death Eater. A hardcore racist, yes. But a follower of the dark lord, not so much.

The imposing front doors to the school swung open slowly, revealing a grizzled man with long greasy hair and a patchwork cloak.

The man's voice came out slow and gravelly, carrying a strange tone to it that left Ed unsure of who exactly he was addressing. “Well, well, well what do we have here Mrs. Norris? Guests for the madam, fine folk to see our kind headmistress.”

“Yes,” Lucius said, his lips pressed into a pale thin line. “And we are on a bit of a timetable here Argus.”

The man- Argus, shoot them both a look through narrowed eyes, his gaze lingering on Ed longer than he thought necessary. “Yes, Yes, of course. Right, this way.” Ed kept in step with Lucius as Argus led the way through the vaulted ceilings of Hogwarts hallways, the paintings along the walls whispering among themselves as they passed. As they turned the corner, for a moment Ed almost could have sworn a suit of armor waved at him. Wishful thinking he supposed.

The man led them into a classroom so horribly generic looking, that it cause Ed physical pain. How someone managed to recreate the mind-numbing blandness of a Resembool classroom in such an amazing location was beyond him. From the main room, they traveled up a set of stairs to a raised office. The moment the door opened, Ed was already missing the blandness.

The main room of the office was offensively pink, and nearly every fixture in it bore a gaudy lacy trim, a sharp departure of the elegance Ed associated with powerful wizards. A quick glance to his left told him Malfoy shared his sentiments.

“Miss, your guests have arrived,” Argus spoke with a quick wrap on the door separating them from the inner office. From the other side came a girlish squeal of excitement, and the door swung open to reveal the squat toadish lady Ed had first seen across the pages of The Prophet.

“Dolores,” Malfoy said stepping forward and extending his hand. “How good it is to see you. And may I just say, congratulations on the promotion.”

“Yes, well,” the woman fluttered her eyelashes making Ed’s stomach turn. “It was about time the Ministry put a stop to Dumbledore's meddlings!”

“Certainly.” Lucius’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Now, may I introduce you to Master Edward Elric,” he said, redirecting her attention on to him.

“Charmed,” she said grasping his hand, Ed was pleased that all things being considered, he was a few inches taller than the witch. Then, her eyes traveled up. Her hand froze in his, and she pulled back far too quickly to be polite. Her skin paling more than a couple shades. “Lucius-!”

“-of the Hoenheim family, madam,” he added smoothly. Why that mattered Ed didn’t know, but he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the woman.

“Of-of course, my mistake,” she said, her smile still spread to thin as she subtly rubbed her hand off on her dress as if to rid it of any Elric taint.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Lucius inclined his head, “I have some other business to attend to, I’ll be back to retrieve Edward in a few hours.” Umbridge looked as if she wanted to protest, and Ed didn’t think he was imagining the way Lucius looked decidedly smugger at her unease.

“Right this way,” she said directing Ed to follow her. Umbridge swung open the door to her office and stepped inside with a short stride. “McCormick dear,” a blonde head bent over her desk jerked up revealing a boy about Al’s age with watery blue eyes. She walked over to him and looked down at something with a faint tisking noise. “I don’t think it’s quite sunk in yet, my office, same time, tomorrow night.” the boy gave a jerky nod and fled. As he moved past Ed, he could have sworn he smelt blood.

Ed’s eyes darkened as he eyed the back of the witches head. Not just a racist then, but a full-blown sadist. His opinion of the Ministry could hardly get lower it seemed.

“Now then, Edward was it?”

“Yes, miss,” Ed responded forcing his anger back down his throat.

“Ah, ah, that's Headmistress dear.”

Ed wanted nothing more to introduce this woman to Winry’s automail.

“Of course, my apologies.”

Umbridge seated herself behind her desk and motioned for Ed to do the same, as she swept whatever it was McCormick was writing out of sight. Pulling out a roll of parchment and a quill she brought her hand up to write. “Now, I understand your former magical Education was under Master Nicholas Flamel?”

“Yes,”

“Yes, Headmistress dear.”

No, scratch that, Winry’s automail was too good for this woman.

“And, you studied under him how long?”

“Since I was eleven,” Ed said, parroting back the bogus information Bones had provided him with.

“And you are?

“I beg your pardon?”

“How old are you dear?”

“16”

“And your parents?”

“Dead.”

Umbridge's hand stuttered at the ferocity of his answer. “Ah yes,” she said. “I see that one the paperwork now.” Ed resisted the urge to roll his eyes. If she thought that bringing up his parents would knock him off guard she was sorely mistaken. “Well then,” she said adjusting her blouse, “how about we see some practical spell work.”

Ed allowed himself a small smile as his wand began to hum in his pocket, it seemed it was just as eager to show Umbridge up as Ed was.

Let the show begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand my time management skills totally failed me this week. Sorry this chapter is out so late, I'm hurrying to post it before I have to catch a flight. There should be one out next week, but it'll probably be late due to a lack of access to my computer in the next few days.


	36. The Long Game

Ed shook his shoulders as he made his way to the center of the empty classroom, Umbridge close behind, quill poised to jot down the results of his evaluation. “Now Mr. Elric, to begin with, if you would clear the room.”

“Sure,” Ed twirled his wand across his left hand. “Ma'am” he added as an afterthought spotting the soured look she shot him.

_“Evanesco,”_ he said, flicking his wand at the nearest desk, feeling the magic deconstruct the object. Umbridge gave a little tisk from where she stood behind him.

“Mr. Elric, I am a busy woman, we will be here all day if you intend to vanish each of my desks one by one. A simple pushing charm I think would do the job.” Ed rolled his eyes behind her back, moved a few desks over and vanished another one. Using something like that would take just as long and probably damage the wooden tables. It seemed clear enough to him that she was just looking for something to dock him points for. “Mr. Elric, are you listening to me?” walking to the back of the classroom he vanished a third one, “Mr. Elric!”

Ed turned to face her, barely concealed annoyance in his voice. “Professor, I am simply doing as you told me to.”

“No Mr. Elric, you are being childish.”

“Childish,” Ed said, moving up the side and vanishing another desk. “How so?”

Umbridge gave a little scoff of indignation. “Mr. Elric I would have expected much better from someone of your station-” Her voice was rapidly losing her girlish charm, and Ed knew that he couldn’t push it any further without creating complications. Hopefully, his insolence lowered her expectations enough to draw out the reaction he was looking for when he really got started. With a flourish Ed vanished the fifth desk, creating a ring of magic residue around the remaining tables. He was lucky Hogwarts was so steeped in magical energy, the centuries of magical training would make this much easier. It was a theory he’d learned under Flamel, and well if Umbridge wanted to see a Master Alchemist at work…

“-I think you’ll find my method to be perfectly efficient Ma’am,” he said cutting off what was shaping up to be quite the lecture. _“Evanesco,”_ He murmured, as he stood on the edge of the matrix he’d formed, aiming inward.

“Mr. Elr-” Umbridge's mouth snapped shut as the glow of the spell traveled across the groundwork Ed had laid out vanishing all the remaining desks away into “non-being” and leaving the previously obstructed area clear. “How-?”

Ed forced the grin off his face as Umbridge struggled to control her shock. That was the beauty of vanishing spells. Any Alchemist worth their salt knows that something can’t just become nothing, and even with magic, things were never truly as gone as they appeared. Whenever you vanished something the reaction created an energy that could act like water during an electrical storm, creating a conductor. When said conductor was applied to a transmutation circle like matrix… well, let's just say it was good for shock value.

“What next professor?” he asked rolling his shoulders backward. Intimidation was all about a power imbalance, and, he thought it best to establish here and now how that figured out between the two of them.

\---

Lucius strolled down the stone corridors, students on their way the Great Hall parting before him leaving a trail of whispers in his wake.

“Lucius.” came a familiar drawl to his left. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

Lucius turned to face Snape, where the Potions Master stood silhouetted in the darkness. “I had some… pressing business with our dear Headmistress,” he replied coldly. Severus may have clawed his way back into their Lord’s ranks, but this, this business with Elric would set his family for life.

Severus moved as if to respond, only to suddenly jerk his head to the side to address a new party. “Do you need something Potter?” he hissed sharply. Lucius whirled around to see Potter standing in the middle of the hallway staring at them with narrowed eyes. “And you Granger, have you nothing better to do than to halt the traffic of others?” the girl turned bright red, and the Weasley boy turned towards them looking rather indignant. “Run along all three of you, or it’ll be a weeks detention.” Potter looked as if he was going to say something, but the Granger girl shook her head and pulled both boys away.

Severus watched the three of them depart through narrowed eyes. “Perhaps we should take this elsewhere,” he said, inclining his head for Lucius to follow.

“Of course.” he nodded, keeping pace with the black-robed wizard. Severus turned on him the moment the chamber door shut behind them, fixing the Malfoy with a dark look.

“Care to share what it is you were doing with Dolores?”

Lucius shook his head smugly, his fingers drumming along the head of his cane. “Now, now Severus. That’s Headmistress now.”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps I will call her that if she lasts beyond the end of the year.”

Lucius couldn't help the patronizing chuckle that he directed at his fellow Death Eater. “You can’t think Dumbledore has a chance in hell of getting back in the Ministry’s good graces after this can you?”

But the Potions Master only frowned. “I’ve… learned to never bet against that man if I want any good to come of it.”

“Careful Severus.” Lucius said, “Talk like that might make people wonder if you really did flip sides. A tame dog at the feel of Albus Dumble-” Lucius was blasted off his feet in a flash of light, jarring his shoulder sharply on one of the cabinets lining the room. With a hiss, the aristocrat climbed to his feet with a growl, blonde hair falling messily in front of his face. With a snarl, he made to draw his own wand.

“Don’t you dare to even think of questioning my loyalties Lucius,” Snape said coolly, his face the picture of composer as he lowered his wand arm. “I have waited years for his return, I won't have you projecting your own in inferiorities back on me now.”

“How dare-!”

“-Hogwarts is no longer your domain Lucius. You lost that right when you showed your hand and got yourself thrown off the board of governors. I will not have you destroying what I have built here. Step softly Lucius, or I will make you regret your interference.”

Lucius narrowed his eyes at the younger man with disdain, then let out a breath as he swept his hair back out of his face. Severus would get what was coming to him one of these days, and If all went to plan, The Dark Lord would be seeing very soon who the more loyal servant really was.

“I’m hardly here to interfere, Severus,” he said, adjusting his robes so they fell correctly. “I’m acting under orders from our Lord himself you see.”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “Plans pertaining to Hogwarts I was not informed off?”

“Not the school no,” Lucius reclaimed his small smirk, taking pleasure in the fact that he knew more than Snape. “A student.”

“A student.” he frowned. “Potter?”

Lucius gave a small laugh. “No, no, someone a good deal more powerful than that half-bred welp.” he reached down and fished a watch out of his pocket, missing the dark look that crossed Snape's face. “If you’ll excuse me, as… enjoyable, as this discussion was, I have pressing matters to attend to Severus. Have fun playing school teacher.”

And with that Lucius brushed past Severus, and disappeared out into the corridor. Severus watched with a frown as the Malfoy passed from view with slit eyes. Something was happening, something big. And for some reason, the Dark Lord was allowing Lucius to run the show, and even more pressing, for some reason he was being left out of it.

Reaching for his wand, he cast his Patronus. Dumbledore needed to know what was happening here.

\---

Ed didn’t think he’d ever cast so much magic at one time before. He conjured things and transfigured animals as he swallowed down his hatred of the unnaturalness of interfering with life and it's natural order. Umbridge circled him, practically salivating. Her voice had lost all its faux sweetness, replaced with a cool even bark as she asked him to perform spells over and over again. There was a calculating air to it as she pressed him forward, a quest for information Ed knew he was helping along. It didn’t matter though, not in the long run. She could fawn over his magic all she liked, and would never be able to recreate anything here she wouldn’t be able to get from someone else.

He could admit his sense of showmanship was getting a rise out of this. Leading her on to think she’d stumbled upon some diamond in the rough as it were, completely unaware he was using the school's own residual energy to create the illusion of greater magic.

He almost let out a sigh of relief as she told him it was time to switch to potions. Increasing the blast radius of spells or their potency was all well and good, but it wouldn’t have saved him if she’d asked for something more complex. He’d taken a gamble on the exam, decided that, provided he’d interpreted the information from Bones correctly, he was dealing with a woman looking for something to gain. He’d slacked off on learning the more complex spells he was supposed to know, in exchange for the spectacle he was putting on. Umbridge didn’t care about the exam, that much was clear. What she cared about was figuring out what made him so special. What made him special enough to apprentice with Nicholas Flamel? What made him special enough for her “friend” Lucius to call for his examination post haste? That’s what she wanted to know. And that’s what Ed intended to answer for her. Even if the answer he provided wasn’t quite the truth.

“Ah Severus, thank you for joining us.”

There was a moment where Ed and the dark haired man locked eyes. Where Ed could see the beginnings of surprise- no shock at his appearance. Where Ed suddenly remembered the first night he’d come crashing into Grimmauld place with Sirius and Remus, remembered a man in black bursting into the room as Moody shoved him up the wall demanding to know who he was. At that moment he remembered all of Sirius’s snide comments, all his stories about Snivellus Snape. Then, their eyes broke apart, and both of them promptly wiped any trace of recognition off their faces.

“What was it you needed me for Headmistress?”

“Mr. Elric here is looking to join Hogwarts next year, and is in need of someone to proctor the potions part of his exam.”

“I see.”

“If you would Mr. Elric,” she directed him to a newly conjured up desk in the center of the room. Set on top, was a large cauldron and a collection of various ingredients. “Professor, If you would give him a potion, to begin with?”

Snape strolled forward to observe the ingredients that Umbridge had provided. As he passed Ed, the blonde could feel the brush of magic against his hand. Opening his left, a small piece of paper settled in his palm which he quickly buried within his pocket.

“Wideye Potion should do well to start.” the Potions Master said with a nod, not even glancing Ed's way.

Ed stopped before the desk and glanced up at the man. “Sir? Doesn’t Wideye potion require a minimum of 8 hours sitting?” He might not have spent nearly the time on potions as he had on wand based magic, but its similarity to Alchemy had made it his personal favorite of the subjects. Wideye was something he’d made with Mrs. Flamel for all-nighters, and he could distinctly remember the pain of waiting for it to finish up while fighting off sleep.

“Indeed,” Snape responded. “But if done correctly the potion should have a distinctive color before the setting even begins. If your attempt bears a resemblance, I’ll consider it a success.”

“Yes Sir,” he said with a nod as he began separating out the ingredients. There was a manual beauty to potions making, the same scientific exactness that made transmutations so hard and set it apart from magic. Spellcasting, charms, transfiguration, were more dependent on an individual's ability to memorize. Potions, potions though took skill.

Ed could feel Snape’s eyes on the back of his neck as he smashed the Snake fangs, using his automail to grind them into a powder. With a flick of his wand Ed lit a fire under his cauldron bringing the water up to a simmer. he stiffened briefly as he went to pour the dry ingredients into the potion. Umbridge was only a foot behind him, passive-aggressively scratching away with her a quill. Unclenching the tight fist his left hand had been forming Ed moved forward with his work, doing his best not to react to the invasion of personal space.

He stepped back after a wave of his wand over the cauldron allowing Snape to inspect his work. “Well done Elric,” he said, but despite the nature of the words, his tone held no praise. With a wave of the Potion Master's wand, his work disappeared. “Make me a Herbicide Potion, same rules apply as did to the previous venture.”

Ed nodded, dividing out his ingredients again. Despite this potion's more advanced nature, it too he’d made a fair amount of with Mrs. Flamel and Elia for the garden. His hands went through the motions allowing his mind to drift.

If the Potions Master passed him here, he’d be cleared to enter Hogwarts. He knew he’d impressed Umbridge as he’d set out to do, and she, unlike Dumbledore, seemed to have no alternative motive for keeping him out. Snape on the other hand…

Sirius had named him a double agent. Said that he worked for Dumbledore while pretending to be a member of Voldemort’s inner circle. But Sirius had… expressed doubts about who he was actually working for in that equation.

No. That didn’t matter now. He’d have to pass him. Voldemort wanted him in place at the school so Snape would pass him as a loyalist or as a spy keeping up his cover, regardless.

Part of him was tempted to stop working then and there, show both professors the mess of half-completed ingredients before him. He wanted to grin proudly and look Snape in the eye as he was forced to wave him on. It’s certainly what he would have done back in Amestris. But now, now Ed had learned that sometimes you needed to play the long game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to get this out quick as I could since I missed last week, look for the next one sometime later this week.


	37. Whispers Through the Walls

He’d passed. He knew he would. His glossy acceptance letter arrived by owl the next day making him an official Hogwarts student. Malfoy had sent his own letter just behind it, filled with his congratulations and an Invitation to the Manor for a dinner on the 18th June. Ed had barely glanced over it before tossing it aside, running with the theory that spending any more time reading the aristocrats florid writing was actually killing brain cells.

Snape’s note had proven more informative, however.

No. 7 Spinner's End  
Not intercepted  
Take Precautions

An address, presumably Severus’s, and seemingly a proposal. But as of now, Ed wasn’t sure who the extended hand came from. A member of the Order, or from a Death Eater.

Olivia had been overjoyed, wrapping him in one of those tight hugs he still wasn’t quite sure how to react to. Ashley had clapped him on the shoulder as he sat down, serving him dinner on the house despite Ed’s insistence that he could pay. After the evening crowd had begun to thin out some, Olivia had made her way over to his table with a bottle of something Ed knew for a fact he was allowed drink yet.

“So now that you’re in kid, it's time you learned a little more about my dear alma mater,” she said with one of those grins that told Ed he was going to spend the next hour trying to pick apart fact and hyperbole.

“I can’t wait,” Ed said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as rested his forearms on the tabletop.

She snorted and poured them each a glass. “So Hogwarts-”

“-Yeah, about that, why the hell is it called Hogwarts?”

She scowled “Hey, buddy, who's doing the talking here again?” she quipped. Ed threw up his hands in surrender, and Oliva gave a long sigh. “As a tribute to Hogsmeade? A favorite potions ingredient? Maybe the founders were just really drunk. I don’t know Ed, and it’s not really important.”

“Okay, Okay,” Ed said laughing, motioning for her to return to her original point.

Oliva signed and began again. “So Hogwarts-” she paused to make sure he wasn’t going to interrupt her again. “-Hogwarts was founded ages ago by four particularly talented witches and wizards, those being Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, Salazar Slytherin, and, drumroll please, Godric Gryffindor!”

“Yay I guess?”

“Hey, shut up. I’m getting there.”

“Fine, fine.”

“Each of the founders created Houses, separated out by what they value in students, Ravenclaw takes the brainiacs, you know, seekers of knowledge and the like. Hufflepuff is all about loyalty and kindness, Slytherin is… ambition? I guess? I can’t say my opinion of them is exactly unbiased because I, personally, was a Gryffindor. Bravery, chivalry, nerve. Gryffindor is very… boisterous? You know, give no shit, take no shit.”

Ed nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard about the houses before, but I admit that I’m a little shaky of how exactly they separate people out?”

Olivia gave a little tisk, “Ah, sorry, school secret.” she said reaching up to press her finger to her lips. “I mean, it’s by no means a carefully guarded one, but it’s worth keeping it a surprise if you don’t know yet.” Ed let out a sigh.

Ashley crossed the room towards them, carrying leftover shortbread that hadn't been purchased, “Congratulations Ed,” he said, clapping Ed on that back with a large hand, shoving the blonde forward.

“Thanks,” Ed said, pushing himself back upright. “Hey, Ash?” he called as the man made his way back towards the bar. “What house were you?”

“Hufflepuff.” the man said, and grinned before disappearing back into the kitchen.

“Houses, are more than just labels you know,” Olivia said, taking another sip of her drink. “It’s a whole social thing too. Your house is big in determining what teachers think of you, who’ll talk to you, even after school employers still like to know what house you were in, they see it as a good judge of character.”

“So what your saying is, I better not fuck this up?”

She laughed, “I’m just saying to be careful. Rivalries at Hogwarts run deep and I don’t want you getting on the wrong side of one.”

Ed let out a long breath “Thanks, Olivia, really. For everything I mean.”

“It’s no problem, really,” she replied, her voice dropping its joking tone. “You’re a good kid Edward Elric, and this world has a nasty habit of chewing up and spitting out good kids.”

Ed gave a bitter laugh, Oh, if only she knew. “I’ve got to be getting home now.”

“Yeah, see you soon Ed.” She walked him to the door and watched through the magical barrier as he faded into the night.

\---

Now without the specter of Hogwarts looming over his head, Ed allowed himself to get back to work translating and studying Flamel’s journals. Those days were rather hit or miss, as sometimes he was able to learn potentially vital information, and others he was made frustratingly aware of the fact the Flamel had never intended to return home.

The Dwarf had become rather subdued upon learning Ed’s plans for the future, and Ed couldn’t help but wonder what that meant. At first Ed through that maybe the painting didn’t approve, though, of what, Ed couldn’t guess. But it seemed to him now, the homunculus was viewing his plans with almost a sense of resignation. As if they were something inevitable and beyond his control. Which, Ed supposed they were, but it was still kinda off-putting.

But then June arrived, and again, Ed's focus on his research was pulled away by the social obligations of high society. As Amah helped him into his dress robes, the small Elf pointedly not commenting on the state of his limbs, Ed couldn’t help but wonder how Mustang did it. Without the very real threat of moral danger hanging over his head, Ed was fairly certain he'd be ripping his hair out about now. He also wasn’t sure what entirely to expect, another Death Eater party or an actual social gathering. The fact that his life had transformed into a parade of wondering what kind of intolerable people would be attending the same dinner party as him today, killed him inside a little.

“Will that be all Master Elric?” Amah asked as Ed slipped the Flamel signet ring onto his finger. Ed nodded and dismissed her as he swept his hair back into a lowset ponytail.

“Right then,” he muttered, grabbing his bag and making his way towards the fireplace. It was still far from his favorite way to travel, but he had to admit, he was starting to get used to its stomach-churning roughness.

Malfoy Manor remained unchanged as he passed his baggage off to a waiting house elf. The little creature was one he recognized from his previous visit, but after the terrified look it sent him after Ed tried to initiate conversation, the two traveled along their way in a tense silence.

“Right this way Sir,” the little elf squeaked, directing him to a lounge off the main hall.

“Thanks,” he mumbled pushing the door in and stepping into the room.

Ah.

Death Eaters it was then.

“Edward!” A shrill voice exclaimed, and Ed tried not to flinch backward as the insane form of Bellatrix Lestrange fixed him with a grin.

“Ah, Elric, so happy you could join us,” Lucius said stepping around his sister-in-law and towards Ed.

“Of course,” he said, his easy smile hiding his uncomfortableness. The Malfoy Manor was so saturated with centuries of dark magic he hadn’t even been able to sense the murderers' feet away from him.

“Edward dear,” That was Narcissa Malfoy. “Let me introduce you to some friends of ours. We were just finishing up talking about business-” Here she shot a pointed look at her sister as she led Ed to the fall side of the room. “-and we were hoping to consult you on some matter.” Ed opened his mouth to inquire the nature of said matter, but Narcissa was already directing his hand towards a spindly man with greying hair. “Edward, this is Walden Macnair.”

“How do you do?” Ed asked, but Narcissa was already pushing him to the next man in line before Macnair had any chance at answering. Crabbe, Nott, Lestrange, Jugson, Rookwood, and on, totaling roughly 10 men, each of them Death Eaters. Ed had walked into something here, what, he wasn’t entirely sure.

“What can I help you all with?” Ed asked, doing his best to keep an eye on every party in the room.

“We’re in, how you call, a predicament,” Malfoy said, stepping forward to speak for the others. “There is a curse placed on an object which our Lord desires. It affects anyone to whom the object does not belong, and we have been tasked with its retrieval- In a few days time.” Malfoy paused for a moment. “We have a manner in which to draw the other party forth and retrieve it for us, but it’s not foolproof. And… incidents have occurred with this particular individual in the past. We would like to avoid his involvement if at all possible."

“And you need from me…?”

Bellatrix climbed to her feet and approached him, effectively boxing him in. “You’re an Alchemist are you not? I’ll admit I found the science to be scandalously Muggle back in my day, but you have magic we don’t, and therefore, perhaps a different way.”

Ed swallowed, feeling caged under their oppressive gazes. “You wouldn’t happen to know the spell in question would you?”

“No,” Malfoy answered. “It was enchanted by the Department of Mystery. Even with my connections, I could not discover that information.”

“Then no,” Ed answered slowly, tensing as the words left his mouth. He could feel the tension rising like water under pressure as the Death Eaters processed his words. "Alchemy isn't a cure-all, It's very exact. I can't do anything if I don't know the circumstances I'm working under."

“Surel-” Malfoy began, a warning edge to his voice as he began to put into words the frustration of the room.

“Lucius!”

And like that, the tension broke. Narcissa Malfoy stood over her husband's shoulder eyeing both him and her sister warningly. “We can’t have our guest thinking we only wanted him here to pick his brain.” he voice held an edge, that bordered on breaking her carefully constructed facade. “Edward dear, how about we see to your room while the others finish talking.” she placed a hand on his shoulder steering him away. “We’ll reconvene for dinner.” Ed walked in front of the Malfoy Matriarch, her small hand firmly leading him forward out the heavy doors of the lounge.

“Thank you.” He finally said, when they were several breaths away.

“Do not thank me, Edward Elric, I will not always be your saving grace. This is my house, and Lucius is my husband,” she said. “You embarrassed by husband Mr. Elric, and that was a foolish thing to do. Especially these days.” that last bit she said almost like an afterthought, letting it hang there without an address.

“I’m-” She cut him off before he could say anything.

“Fortunately, anything bad happening to you would reflect even more poorly on my family than my husbands bruised ego. I did not save you because it was kind, or because I possess a mother's instincts, I saved you because you survival is beneficial to the three people whose lives I value above mine. Lucius, Draco and Bella.”

Ed hesitated for a moment, but in the end, he couldn’t help himself. “Not our Lord?”

“I meant what I said,” she replied coolly, leading him up the stairs to the room where he had stayed previously. She paused for a moment, her hand resting on the doors golden handle, “And Mr. Elric, If you ever repeat anything I’ve said to you here, I assure you, you will die screaming.” Ed blinked, Narcissa’s face didn’t even shift. “Dinner will be in a bit, I’ll send an elf to fetch you then.”

\---

  
Ed waited until he was sure Narcissa was out of earshot before vacating his bedroom. Focusing more than he had upon his initial arrival in the household, Ed slowly made his way along the upper floor of the manor feeling his way toward the heaviest concentration of dark magic. Trusting his instinct to lead the way, Ed found himself in the bathroom of another guest room a good ways away from his own.

“Okay,” he murmured. “If I’m right about this…” Carefully lowering himself to the ground, he could make out faint vibrations through the tiles. Ed allowed himself the small grin that graced his face. All below him were the thrums of supernatural energy, he’d found Lucius’s meeting.

Ed clapped his hands together intending to thin the floor below him, utilizing the same eavesdropping technique he had used back in Grimmauld Place, only to catch himself at the last moments. The first time he’d used Alchemy to change the structure of his house, Amah had appeared almost instantly to see to the damage. If he performed any Alchemy here, there was a very real chance he’d be caught.

Carefully Ed dispersed the energy he’d collected, mentally unweaving the transmutation circle he’d pictured in his mind. “I guess we’re gonna have to go old school with this,” he mumbled to himself. Letting himself back into the guestroom itself, Ed found what he was looking for in the empty vase settled on the window sill. His room had a similar one, though it had been filled in preparation for his arrival, further proof that the Malfoy’s had no intention of anyone being in this room.

The vase, not being part of the house itself, was unlikely to draw the attention of the house elves. But without any previous tests to show the attention the Malfoy elves paid to their possessions, it wasn’t worth it to risk Alchemy. Magic, however, slipped below their notice, Amah could attest to as much, so with a flick of his wand he transfigured is down to the approximate size and shape of a cup.

Walking back the bathroom, Ed again positioned himself on the floor, this time with the cup positioned under his ear. There were voices, Ed could make out as much, but the floor muffled them to the point where their words were indistinguishable. He'd figured as much. Ed frowned, racking his brain for the specific spell he was looking for.“ _Sonus? Soundus_?” he murmured trying to recall. Finally, it came to him, and with a small smile, Ed flipped the cup over, casting a _Sonorus_ into its depths amplifying any sound it picked up.

Adjusting himself, Ed readied to listen. The sounds were still muffled, the spell could only do so much with what it was given, but as Ed let his eyes slid shut a conversation began to emerge.

“-Now.”

“But the plan wasn’t to leave till later.” an unknown voice said, replying to some previous statement Ed had missed. “The Dark Lord-”

“-Will receive the prophecy at the same time he would have, had the boy a way around the curse.” Even, the sound distorted as it was, the cadence at the speech was clearly Lucius. “We have to leave now, in order to prepare the trap when Potter arrives.” Ed’s eyes snapped open at the mention of the familiar name.

“It’s going to be messy.” A new voice spoke up. “We’ll have to clear out the ministry. The break-in will be noticed.”

“No messier than this plan was when it was originally conceived.” Lucius again. “And besides, Fudge is so eager to believe Potter’s a lunatic the idiot might even believe he really did orchestrate the whole thing. We’d practically be handing our dear ministry an excuse to lock the boy up.” This statement was met with jeers of agreement by the other Death Eater, but Ed was only aware of the growing pit in his stomach. He had to warn Harry, or at the very least stop him from falling into this trap. But he had to hear more, he didn’t know enough yet.

Ed leaned closer in.

“Then it’s decided, we leave now and lay the trap for the boy.” muffled sounds of agreement met Ed’s ear, and he held in a curse. He still didn’t know where they were going.

“What about dinner?” a voice asked, quiet and feminine. Narcissa then. There was a moment of silence as everyone seemed to take in the absurdity of the question at a time like this.

“What about dinner? A voice responded, the words dripping with condescension.

Her reply carried an edge to it like she couldn’t believe the idiocy of what was being asked of her. “This is a secret task is it not?" a pause. "And yet, you overlook the fact we have a guest invited for dinner upstairs at this very moment. A very bright guest, who I think will probably be able to put together your line of questioning, the sudden lack of the dinner he was invited to, and a robbery that's going to be on the front page of every paper from here to MACUSA.”

Ed winced. Right. That could be a problem.

“So what if he knows.” someone piped up. “He's one of us ain't he? He met the Dark Lord?”

Someone cleared their throat. “That’s true, however-” Lucius, Ed identified. “-The Dark Lord has… expressed an interest in keeping the Hoenheim heir in the dark, for now. His former master being a friend of Dumbledore and all.”

Ed winced a little as he heard those words.

“Cissy?” Bellatrix he presumed. “Did you find things got a bit… heated when the boy was in here last?”

“What are you getting at?” Narcissa replied.

“Well, we are a very violent bunch.” Ed’s skin crawled at the casual understatement of the Death Eaters actions. He may not have been around during the last wizarding war, but the stories of what Voldemort’s followers had done were horrifying. “Perhaps you could suggest to him that dinner, after how we left things last time, might not be in his best interests.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Modify his memory. I seem to remember you being quite good at those.” Narcissa must have nodded in affirmation because a few seconds later there was a heavy thud of a door opening a closing as Narcissa left to go to his room.

Go to his room.

His room.

“Ah, shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Entering the final stretch here...


	38. Refracting

With a flick of his wrist, Ed restored the vase to its original state and sent it reeling across the room to where it originally stood. Moving as fast as he could without his automail creating extensive noise, Ed flew across the room toward the door. In the back of his mind he tracked Narcissa’s movements, the matriarch as it stood, was far closer to his room than he was. Ed tossed open the wooden door, stopping it just before it could impact the wall. Ed winced as he realized she had reached the stairs. She couldn’t see him yet, but she would certainly hear him if he ran.

Moving as lightly as he could, Ed scanned the hall for anything that could explain why he wasn’t back in his room. Five rooms away now, but she was halfway up the stairs. If she got any closer she’d be able to see him from where she stood-

“Narcissa,” A voice cut through the tense silence and Ed couldn’t help but freeze along with her, as he searched for some sign of who the new arrival was. “What a surprise to see you, I figured passing messages was a concern for the help.” The cutting tone was familiar, and Ed’s eyes widened as he recognized the voice as the painting who had known his father.

“And I figured, what I did was only the concern of the living, Margaret,” Narcissa replied coldly. Ed crept forward, not sure how long the painting would hold her attention.

“It’s a foolish venture Narcissa. Our family has survived for hundreds of years, but this- Voldemort? might be the end of us all.”

Two rooms away now, Ed could see Narcissa’s heterochromic hair from where he stood. Margaret Greengrass seemed to have requisitioned a landscape for her confrontation, and the contrast in painting style between the subject and background created an almost eerie look to it all. “Why tell me that?” Narcissa said, looking untouched by the paintings words. “I’m not a Malfoy, not really. If you want someone to change the course of this family, take it up with Lucius, take it up with Draco. It's them who will lead us.”

“I’m not exactly a Malfoy myself anymore-”

“-glad you see that,” Narcissa said cutting her off. “Good day Margaret.” She turned.

Ed’s eyes widened, his hand resting on the knob of his room, seconds away from entry. All Narcissa would have to do now was look up-

“-And what of the Hoenheim boy?” Narcissa froze, Ed froze, and the air seemed to charge with electricity as the Malfoy turned back around to face the painting.

“What about him?”

“Lucius has put quite a bit of weight behind his counsel hasn’t he?”

Narcissa narrowed her eyes. “Your point being?”

“It rather cruel don't you think? dragging him into something like this. It’s not too late to get out, for all of you.” Margaret's eyes locked with his, and Ed realized his hand was still grasping the doorknob.

Quite as he could, end let himself inside, wincing a little as the floor creaked below him. The last thing he heard before the door latched silently behind him was Narcissa’s hushed response, “Yes, it is.”

\---

“But why,” Hermione persisted, “why on earth would Voldemort want to use Sirius to get the weapon, or whatever the thing is?”

“I dunno, there could be loads of reasons!” Harry yelled back, panic beginning to boil over in his chest. His breathing had gone ragged as he watched Hermione’s face fill with concern for him. Concern for him, not for Sirius. Sirius who was being tortured right this minute  _and they didn't believe him!_

“Hermione,” Ron said slowly, his eyes filling with some unidentifiable emotion. “Sirius’s brother was a Death Eater right? Do you think, that maybe, he told Sirius how to get it?”

“That makes sense!-”

“-No it doesn’t! Harry Please!-”

Harry pushed Hermione’s words aside, nodding frantically in Ron’s direction. “That’s why he hasn’t been allowed to leave!”

“Harry, would you shut up and listen to me!” He froze, turning slowly to face his friend. “Harry, we can’t rush into things,” she was positively shaking as she met his eyes. “Vol- Voldemort knows you, Harry. He took Ginny,” here she sent a scattered glance Ron’s way. “This is, this is the kind of thing he does. What if-”

“What if what?” he practically hissed at her. “What if he’s torturing my Godfather down there Hermione? He’s the only family I have left!”

Her lip wavered slightly with hurt, but she continued anyway. “What if he’s just trying to lure you out? What if he's trying to get you into the Depart-”

“THERE IS NO ONE ELSE HERMIONE!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the empty classroom. "They took McGonagall away, Dumbledore’s gone, we can’t get a message out of Hogwarts! We are all the chance he has!”

“AND WHAT IF YOU’RE WRONG!” she screamed back. “What if it’s just a dream Harry? What then?”

Harry pulled back his lips in a snarl, how could she not understand? How could she not get what was happening? “IF YOU THINK IM GONNA ACT LIKE I HAVEN’T SEEN-”

“-Harry!” she cried throwing her hands into the air. “He’s the one who told you to close your mind!”

“WELL, I IMAGINE HE’D FEEL A BIT DIFFERENT IF HE’D KNOWN WHAT I’D SEEN!” The two were practically nose to nose, Harry barring his teeth at her argument.

“Harry?” the three of them froze as the classroom door swung open, Ginny and Luna both entering, eyeing the group with concern. “Is everything all right? Is there something we can help with?”

“No,” Harry answered coldly, his rage still simmering just under the surface.

Ginny narrowed his eyes at him angrily “I was only wondering if I could help.”

“Well, you can’t.”

“Harry-” Luna sounded almost reproachful as he rounded on her too.

“Back off.” he spat out. “It’s none of your business.”

“Wait!” Hermione gasped, cutting him off before he could say anything else to the girls. “Harry, they could help!”

Harry turned, glancing between Hermione and the girls. “What are you getting at?” he said with narrowed eyes.

\---

Ed felt Narcissa moving far away from him at roughly the other end of the house, the others having left en masse roughly 15 minutes ago. He was growing restless, instinct driving him to act despite his logical mind warning him he needed to wait. There was an art this, sneaking out, disappearing under someone's nose, and for it to work you needed one important thing. You had to have a witness, someone to confirm your alibi, or at least testify that you were somewhere else. Narcissa hadn’t seen him since the Death Eater brigade had departed, so if she came to check now and he was gone it would look suspicious. But if he waited until the house-elf showed up with his dinner…

Ed clenched and unclenched his hands, returning to his pacing. He didn’t know the plan, not the full thing at least. All he knew was that if he didn’t intervene, Harry was going to find himself in a very dangerous situation, _very soon._

He found it almost funny how much he cared. He didn’t know Harry, not really. They’d hardly interacted during the short time they’d both been staying at Grimmauld Place but in the time since, the time he’d spent out in the real world, he’d gotten an idea of who he was. Maybe not personally who he was, but he’d seen what Harry had become. Intentional or not, Harry Potter was a symbol of freedom to the wizarding world. Even in the midst of the mother of all smear campaigns, Harry Potter was an idea. He, regardless of his abilities as a wizard, was living proof that Voldemort was not infallible. And now, as the second war rose, that was an idea that needed protecting.

Ed, also, couldn’t pretend that he didn’t know what that was like. The Fullmetal Alchemist “Hero of the People” had been a symbol of what the State Alchemist program should have been. And even if the moniker was utilized for the wrong reasons, by the wrong people, it had still carried a power that Ed had always felt a bit unsure of wielding.

A sharp crack echoed around the room and Ed whirled around so quickly the little elf looked like he might die of fright. “Is- Is everything alright Master Elric?”

“It’s fine.” Ed said shaking out his hands, “Just restless, could use a walk.” the elf looked up at him with big eyes, unmoving from where he had appeared. “That mine?” Ed asked, nodding towards the silver palter the tiny creature held.

The elf gave a little jump. “Oh! Yes, Sir, I’m sorry Sir!”

“It’s fine,” Ed waved of the stream of apologies. “You’re dismissed.” As a loud crack announced his departure Ed uncovered the dish, barely glancing at it before tarring into it with the utensils provided. Vanishing the larger pieces, Ed did his best to ensure a proper amount of scraps and grease remained to make it look like he’d actually eaten. Setting the tray down on his bedside table, he made his way to the other side of the room. There, he purposely pushed his trunk out in the open and draped his dress robes over his desk chair. leaving him in just his slacks and dress shirt. Satisfied that his room looked like he’d just stepped out and would be back in a moment, Ed pushed open the window above his desk, breathing in a blast of the night air. Then, with an only half sarcastic prayer to Truth, he leaped from the window, hoping he’d remembered that air cushion spell correctly.

\---

Harry glared up at Umbridge from the chair he’d been forced into, his side still aching from where she’d thrown him into her desk.

“I want to know why you are in my office!” she shrieked, grabbing a clump of his hair between her pudgy fingers.

“I was- I was trying to get my firebolt!” Harry managed to croak out. He’d seen Umbridge mad before, with the number of detentions he’d served with her it was inevitable, but he’d never seen her so unhinged.

“Liar!” she spat, and Harry couldn’t help the low keening sound that left his throat as her grip tightened. “You were trying to talk to someone! I want to know who.”

“No one!-” Umbridge threw him from her, and from his new position, he could see Malfoy, a half smirk plastered across his face as he flipped Harry’s wand loosely, loving every second of this. A loud crash sounded throughout the room as the door was thrown open. Ron, Ginny, and Luna were shoved into the room gagged and at wand point, and to Harry’s bewilderment Neville followed shortly, dragged along by his throat by Crabbe, his face distressingly purple.

“My, my,” Umbridge said with a little breathless laugh. “It seems Hogwarts will soon be Weasely free!” Then she rounded again on Harry, her smile turning cold and filling Harry with dread. “Now Mr. Potter, you really expect me to believe you went to all this effort to steal back a broom?” her stubby wand was shoved under Harry’s throat, forcing him to reel back from the foreign weight. “Who. Were. You. Trying. To. Contact?”

Spying the look of, what Harry could only imagine was anticipation on her face, he spat out, “None of your damn business.”

She snarled, releasing the pressure on his jugular, “Well Mr. Potter, I gave you a chance to tell me freely. Draco,” the Malfoy heir perked up, “Fetch Professor Snape.”

Nobody moved.

“Mr. Malfoy, I believe I gave you an order,” she said, turning to him with a particular look on her face.

“You did Prof- I mean Headmistress-”

“And?”

“He’s not here.”

“What?” Umbridge blinked.

“He said he had to leave on personal business Ma’am. He told you this morning?” Draco shifted uncertainty in the face of the deranged look Umbridge was giving him.

“Right,” she said, straightening up and smoothing down her hair. “Of course. Well then, that’s simply to bad for you Potter.” she nodded several times in rap succession as if assuring herself of something. “Well, there’s nothing more to be done, it's a matter of Ministry Security after all.” she shook out her hand and fixed her wand on Harry’s chest. His eyes widened half a second before she began to speak, realization suddenly striking him for what she was about to do. _“Cru_ -”

“STOP!” Hermione screamed. “We’ll tell you everything!”

\---

Ed jumped back with a yell as the purple bus nearly turned him into a grease spot. The doors swung open with a hiss, and Ed approached warily, his wand drawn.

“Ge'in' on?” Ed whirled around as a voice appeared over his shoulder. The man, well boy really, he couldn’t have been more than a few years his senior, stared down at Ed’s wand jammed into his chest almost dispassionately.

“Where- where’s it going?” Ed asked glancing again at the metal monstrosity that had suddenly appeared.

“Anywhere yew wan' i' to. Got a destinashun in mind?” Ed blinked as his mind attempted to translate through the conductor's thick accent.

“Grimmauld Place?”

“That underwater?”

“No?”

“Done!”

Ed’s eyes widened as the conductor's hand wrapped tight around Ed’s metal wrist and pulled him aboard.

“woss yor name then?”

“Al.” He answered on a whim, pulling wrist away.

Ed let out a quite oof as the young man clapped him on the back. “W‘elcome aboard Al!” the conductor sent him a wide smile and traveled up to the front of the bus seemingly unbothered by the breakneck speed the vehicle was traveling at. The world seemed to blur outside the windows, and Ed soon felt his stomach protesting the view. What he wouldn’t give for a good old train.

Sirius was his best bet. He was the only Order member he could be absolutely certain of his location. Snape… Ed had briefly considered sending the man a message, but with his loyalty still up in the air, it wasn’t worth the risk. Sirius though, Ed knew exactly where he’d stand on saving Harry. Plus, he might get so caught up in the rescue he wouldn’t stop to demand to know where Ed had been all these months.

An elderly woman slid past Ed as the bus came to a sharp stop to allow a man off at a building Ed recognized as the Leaky Cauldron, he wasn’t far off now. His wand seemed to recognized Ed’s anxiety, as it hummed within his pocket. Things it seemed, would be coming to a head tonight.

\---

Sirius blinked rapidly as he heard the knock on the door, sure he was imagining it. The sharp rapping came again and Sirius took a few steps forward despite himself, setting the spare bandages from tending to Buckbeak on a coffee table. The knocking came again, more and more insistent, frantic even. Reaching the door, Sirius stopped himself from simply throwing it open at the last second. Leading forward to press his face to the wood, he flipped open the cover on the rarely used peephole. Sirius nearly did a double take as he made out the figure on the front stoop, the blonde's eyes darting around with a speed to rival Moody’s.

Sirius may have continued to stand there frozen if Ed didn’t reach over and delivered another sharp rap on the wood, jerking him out of his stupor. Hand closing around the knob, Sirius ripped the door open, and with one swift motion pulled Ed inside. Ed gave a gasp, and for a moment his eyes were filled with the same panic Sirius had seen on the first night when he’d tried to escape. But taking advantage of the movement, Sirius pulled him in tight to his chest.

Ed stiffened at the initial hold, before beginning to sink into the embrace. But, just as Sirius opened his mouth to say something, Ed ripped himself away.

“Ed?”

“No- I, we don’t have time.”

“Time?" Sirius asked, trying to catch his eye, trying to see if the boy was alright. "What’s happening Ed, what’s going on?”

“Harry.” He said, grabbing Sirius’s wrist and pulling him along. “It’s Harry, he’s in trouble. Real trouble.”

“Harry? Ed what-?”

“I heard them talking, Sirius.” the blond whirled around. “They left ages ago, I got away as fast as I could.”

“Got away? Ed, what are you talking about? What’s wrong with Harry?”

“Death Eaters,” Ed answered with such heavy seriousness Sirius felt his heart stop in his chest.

“Where?” He asked quietly.

Ed starred up at him, eyes wide and a little panicked. “Sirius, I- I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, folks...


	39. The War Begins

Ed couldn’t stop the shake in his knee as he sat in the Black family parlor. Sirius had shoved a warm mug of tea in his hand, making him sit, as he disappeared off to sent word out about the situation. He felt useless. What good did an advanced warning do, if he couldn’t tell them what he was really warning them about?

He’d said as much to Sirius, only to be harshly rebuked. He claimed that Ed had already done more than enough, he acted like he’d saved Harry with his words. But Ed knew that was far from the case, too caught up in himself, and his own problems in need of solving, he’d forgotten these were real lives at stake. Just because from didn’t know them as well as say, Granny and Winry, it didn’t make them any less worthy of living. His inactivity could have just doomed Harry, and Sirius thought he’d saved him.

“-d? Hey Edward, you with me?”

His eyes shot up to meet Sirius’s, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts. “Yeah, yeah I hear you.”

The man fixed him with an unconvinced gaze, “If you say so,” he let out a long breath. “I’ve sent word to Moony- Remus that is- and Moody. We still can’t get a word out to Dumbledore-”

“-He really ran then?” Ed asked, interrupting as he remembered his skin crawling under Umbridge's gaze.

“What? No. I mean- He’s gone underground, he can’t help us if the ministry arrests him.”

“Can’t help anybody if we can’t get in contact with him,” Ed muttered back.

“Well, I suppose that’s true, but I don’t think he’s fully disappeared. You’re new here so you don’t really understand it, but Albus Dumbledore is a name the commands a lot of respect. Even with what’s been happening with The Prophet. If worst comes to worst, I don’t think he would ever let us take the fall on our own, if the Order became public or anything I mean.”

“So, for the same reason, you think he’d still watching, somehow?”

“Yeah, I guess. Plans were never really my thing.” Sirius said with a wave of his hand, “I’ve always been a man of action, I would never have been able to keep it all straight like he does- just, just trust me, Ed. I’ve known Dumbledore a long time, and I've never not known him to have a plan.”

Ed nodded. He wasn’t a fan of trusting the intangible, life had tested his faith in men in the worst ways. Sometimes it's paid off, but others… Sirius was a good man, and Ed liked him, Ed liked him a lot. It almost scared him how much he’d accepted him into that little circle of people like Havoc and Breda who meant so much to him. But Sirius was scared, and sometimes scared people put their faith in impossible things. No one knew that better than him.

A wash of green light flooded the room as the fireplace flared to life. “Sirius! I got your message, what wrong with Harry?” A disheveled Remus tumbled into the room, the shoulders of his patchy jacket dusted with soot. He spun around to face them, doing a double take as his eyes fell on the blonde. “Ed? Wha-”

“It’s not important,” He said with a shake of his head, “Not right now. The Death Eater’s they’re luring Harry out somewhere, they need him to retrieve something, I don’t know what-”

“Wait! How do you know that?”

“It’s not important!” Ed said, clenching his fist around his tea fighting the urge to throw the drink in frustration. “Just, trust me. Please.” both men stared him for a long moment, and Ed felt his anxiety grow. He couldn’t tell them, it would take too long to explain, and even if he did, there was no promise they would believe him. Who would take advice from their enemy?

“Okay,” Sirius said, breaking the silence, “Okay, we believe you, Ed.” Remus shot his friend a look, and Ed let out a sigh of relief. “The thing we need to figure out is where that’s what Ed doesn’t know.”

Silence fell across the room, and Ed felt a wave of despair building.

“I know.”

Ed raised his eyes slowly meeting Remus’s gaze. “What?” Sirius said, his words steeped in disbelief.

“I mean, there’s really one place it could be. Sirius, he’s going to the Department of Mysteries.”

The moniker sounded vaguely familiar to Ed, but he couldn’t place what about it would cause the look of fear that swept across Sirius’s face just then.

“Of course,” he murmured, “How could I be so stupid.”

“Sirius? Remus? What’s there, what do they want with Harry?” Both men ignored him as they leaped to their feet and began rattling off a list of people who they needed to call, preparations that needed to be made, almost forgetting Ed was there. “Hey! What’s happening!” no one responded.

The fireplace burned green again, and with uneven steps, Alastor Moody charged out of a flame. Without even a moment of hesitation the Ex-Auror stroud forward at Ed meaningly. Ed, not wanting a repeat of their first meeting launched himself over the back of his seat, putting a barrier between himself and the man. The only thing he could say from Moody’s actions was that it had snapped Sirius and Remus out of their haze. Both men, seeing Moody's intent, whirled around on the other man, Sirius actually pushing Ed behind him as Remus placed a hand on the man's shoulder.

“Alastor, relax,” Remus said, fixing the man’s gaze with his own. “He came here to warn us about Harry.”

“Awful coincidental ain't it boy,” he hissed around Remus’s shoulder at Ed, Sirius’s grasp on his automail tightening slightly in warning. “No one’s seen hide nor hair of you for months, and suddenly you’re enrolled in Hogwarts?”

“Ed?” Remus’s sounded almost hurt, Sirius said nothing.

“It's not important,” he said through grit teeth. This was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid.

“And how is that?” Moody sounded almost smug, and Ed could see Remus wavering.

“It’s not important,” he said again, and he couldn't help the desperation that slipped out. “Please, we’re running out of time!”

“And how are we supposed to trust-?”

“-I DON’T KNOW!” Ed’s shout rang out in the room, catching everyone, himself included, off guard. “I don’t know. But you have to. I don’t know what they’ll do to him if you don’t.” Ed’s words seemed to cut through everything, even Moody looked at him consideringly. “Where I’ve been, how I know, they aren’t things any of us have time to discuss. When it's all said and done, after we’ve saved Harry, I’ll tell you if you still must know. But right now, I’m asking you just to trust me. Please.”

For a moment, everything seemed to stop. The crackling of the fire, and his own ragged breath the only thing he could hear.

“I don’t trust you.” Moody spoke, his words damning, “I don’t know you, I don’t trust you, you are far too convenient to be true- but, if you’re lying now, you’re the best damn trickster I’ve ever met. So either you are telling the truth, or you think you are, and with the stakes being what they are, there’s really only one option here isn’t there?”

\---

Harry drew a quiet breath, the back of his hand pressed against his mouth, his fingers closed around his wand. In his other he clutched the silvery prophecy orb tightly, it's impossibly smooth surface freezing compared to the tepid air of the room he hid in. he glanced over at Neville, crouched beneath the desk to his left, and then over at Hermione to his right, neither of them moving as unknown footsteps drew nearer. The Death Eater stopped in front of Harry, pausing, and Harry saw his robes shift back and forth as the man surveyed the room.

“Check under the desks.” Came a voice from the doorway, the man’s voice distorted by his mask.

The three of them shared a quick glance, and as the man began to bend Harry unleashed a stunner on his knees. The man hit the ground hard, his partner retaliating from across the room forcing the teens to dive out of the way.

_“Avada-”_ Harry threw himself at the man knocking his aim offline from where he had fixed Hermione in his sights.

_“EXPELLIARMUS!”_ Neville yelled, and Harry let out a quiet curse as his wand has ripped away along with the Death Eaters. Both of them scrambled forward, Harry falling behind as the man's elbow found his mouth in an attempt to reach each of their wands first. “Harry duck!” Neville cried, and Harry had the good sense to hit the deck as a bright red stunner sailed over his head striking the glass case of hourglasses behind the man, and sending glass raining down upon them.

_“Stupefy!”_ Hermione yelled, sending the Death Eater backward as he struggled to regain his feet. The trio could only watch in horror as the man's head slide effortlessly through the cabinets centerpiece. For a moment nothing happened, but then before their eyes, the unknown Death Eaters hair began to grey, his skin began to sag, and his eyes misted over with blindness. Then, when it seemed he could grow no older, it all seemed to reverse, the man reverting back to an infant before their very eyes.

He felt Hermione’s hand grasp his sleeve, “Harry, we need to go. Come on, please.” He shook his head in agreement and began backing out of the room, watching with abject horror as the now baby-faced Death Eater righted himself, and began to stumble forward.

The three turned and ran, rooms of strange contents passing by in a flash. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry spotted movement, two more Death Eaters. For a moment their eyes locked, and then Harry was pulling his friends faster toward the open door of an office, somewhere where they could hide. Hermione spun around to seal the door, but before the spell was half out of her mouth the two men threw open the door and sent all three flying backward, Harry just barely able to keep his grip on the prophecy.

“WE’VE GOT HIM! WE’VE GOT HIM HERE IN THE-”

Hermione cut him off with a flick of her wand, the man’s hands finding his throat as he choked on words that were no longer there. Harry sent a body bind at the other man, still from his position on the floor as he willed his head to stop ringing. Hermione sent him a grin, which Harry returned just missing the movement of the Death Eater she had just silenced. The man brought his hand up high over his head, striking it downwards with a flash of terrible light. Hermione’s mouth opened wide, and she gave a small intake of surprise and then crumpled to the ground like a puppet with her strings cut.

“HERMIONE!” Harry scrambled to her side, and Neville crawled out from behind the desk he’s disappeared behind, his eyes unfocused as he pointed his wand at the man. Neville’s bravo was short-lived, however, as the Death Eater delivered a sharp kick to the boy’s face, snapping his wand in two. Harry watched wide-eyed as Neville went down, blood gushing from his nose. Following the offending kick upwards, Harry paled as he stared into the eyes of Antonin Dolohov, his mask had come off at some point during the struggle.

With a mad grin, Dolohov gestured between the Prophecy and Hermione, his message crystal clear. Panic buzzed in his brain, his hand tightening around Hermione's shoulder, willing her to still be breathing.

“Don' gib it to ‘im!” Neville called out through a mouth of blood, and Harry remained frozen to the spot, unable to do anything.

A great crash came from the door, and all parties were momentarily distracted as the unfortunate baby-head Death Eater came stumbling into the room, flailing his hands at Dolohov.

Harry seeing his only way out thrust out his wand. _“PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!”_ the spell slammed into the man sending him to the floor, the Death Eater from before reared back with a cry at the man's sudden fall and lumbered off as if frightened by all the noise.

“Hermione…” Harry gave her shoulder a shake. “Hermione wake up!”

“Wha’d e do to er?” Neville muttered as he fumbled for her wrist.

“I don’t know,” Harry said quietly. “Hermione, please.”

“Dat’s a pulse,” Neville said with a rapid shake of his head, which he seemed to regret a moment later, as he listed slightly to the side.

“She’s alive?”

Neville gave a hum of agreement, one hand reached up in an attempt to stop the flow from his nose.

“Neville, Neville, I don’t think we’re far from the exit. If we can just get the two of you out-”

“Whad ‘bout you?”

Harry hesitated for a moment, “I have to find the others.”

“Me too.”

Harry frowned. “But Hermione-”

“I’ll ‘arry, ‘you fight.” Harry wanted to protest, but Neville climbed to his feet taking one of Hermione’s arms in his own.

“Wait,” Harry said, “you’ll need this.” he pressed Hermione’s wand into his hand. Neville nodded as he accepted it, kicking away the fragments of his own ruined one.

The two of them made their way forward, Harry out front wand extended, and Neville close behind, Hermione held up against his side. They took a second to survey the circular room as they entered, trying to figure out which door to try when suddenly to door to their right crashed open, Ron, Luna, and Ginny tumbling out.

“Ron! Ginny! Are you all-?” Harry stopped talking as his best friend clutched his robes barely able to stand with how hard he was giggling. His eyes were cloudy and unfocused as he muttered incoherently about Harry’s face being all bloody. His eyes widened in fear as something dark trickle slowly from the corner of Ron’s mouth, his friend getting paler with each passing second. In the next moment, his knees buckled, his iron grip never leaving Harry’s robes, so that he was tugged down after him. “Ginny? What happened-?”

Harry cut himself off as he watched her sag against the wall, and shake her head weekly. “I think she might have a broken ankle,” Luna said quietly beside him, her voice unnaturally serious. "There were four of them,” he said, as she leaned over her friend. “They chased us into a room full of planets.”

Ron began giggling at Harry’s knees again, something about Uranus. The blood seemed to pick up speed in it’s decent as his chest heaved jerkily. “And Ron?” Harry asked, almost afraid to hear an answer.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “He’s gone a bit off his head, I could barely get him to keep moving with us.”

“We’ve got to get out of here, “ Harry muttered. “Luna, can you help Ginny?”

“Yes,” she said, as she pulled the youngest Weasley upwards despite her protests that she was fine to walk on her own. Harry picked a door at random and they made their way forward, his hand closed around the door handle just as three Death Eaters burst into the room, led by nonother than Bellatrix Lestrange herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LORD, I am sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. I was in DC for about ten days, and then when I got back I had so much work to catch up with, this sorta fell through the cracks. I've got a few more trips there coming up, but this fic should be finished up before it becomes an issue, and hopefully, I'll have a backlog going into the next part so it won't be an issue then either.


	40. The Alchemist's Flight

Harry threw open the door, all of them tumbling inside, falling over each other in an effort to get away from the approaching Death Eaters. _“Colloportus!”_ Harry screamed as he flicked his wand over his shoulder. Ron stumbled drunkenly forward, and Harry had to reach out and catch him before he could fall. Through the walls, Harry could hear the pounding of feet as the Death Eaters searched for another way in.

They were back in the brain room again, and Neville and Luna had to weave among the tanks as they darted across the room sealing the various doors as Death Eaters threw themselves against them. Harry eased Ron to the ground near where Hermione lay, blood from his mouth trickling down his throat now. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Ginny attempted to rise, only to teeter dangerously and fall back to the ground. Her face was pale and waxy, her red hair sticking to her skin with sweat. “Ginny?-”

A scream tore through the tense silence and Harry whipped around in time to see Luna go flying through the air, landing with a sickening thud against one of the brain enclosures.

“Get Potter!” Came Bellatrix's voice from the other side of the doorway. Harry scrambled to his feet aiming his wand at where he knew the Death Eaters would pour in through. Streaks of red rained down on him, and Harry did his best to defend as the mad witch charged him. Dancing around her spells, missing them by the skin of his teeth, Harry had lost track of Ron but was alerted again to his friend's position by the sound of a broken giggle.

“Harry- Harry look! There are brains here!”

"Ron- Ron get out of the way, get down Ron!” Harry yelled back at his friend, but it was too late. With a bubbly mutter of _Accio_ , a brain flew from its tank towards Ron’s hand. The fight seemed to falter for a moment as teen and Death Eater alike watched the grey matter fly to his fingers. “RON NO!” Harry yelled as he watched tentacles extend towards his friend.

The moment they made contact with his skin, they began to wrap themselves tightly around his throat and chest like they intended to squeeze the life out of him. “Harry look- look at this, Harry- hey Harry- no- no- I don’t- I don’t like this Harry! Make it stop! Harry!” Ron’s eyes found him, and Harry could only watch in horror as his friend thrashed against the hold of the brain.

_“Diffindo!”_ Harry yelled, praying that the spell would only strike the brain. And strike it did. Only, the tentacles wouldn’t break, and they wrapped even tighter still.

“Harry! It’ll kill him!” Ginny struggled to pull herself to her feet, to get closer, to help her brother, somehow. She was stopped short however as a Death Eater's stunner hit her square in the face, sending her to the ground.

Neville roared and tried to return fire, but the blood from his broken nose had begun to pool in his mouth again making his words come out managed, his spells ineffective. They were the only two standing now, and the Death Eaters seemed to realize this as they began to close in around Harry. With a quiet curse, he realized his only option. He ran for it.

They sprinted after him, and Harry hoped it provided enough of a distraction for Neville to save Ron. Turning this way and that, Harry ran as fast as he could, keeping his head down to avoid the spells flying after him. Somewhere between one step and the next, the floor vanished from beneath his feet, sending him careening down into the darkness.

Harry struck every step on the way down, nearly losing his grip on both the prophecy and his wand. It was only the understanding that he was dead if he lost either of them that gave him the presence of mind to do so. As he hit the stone ground at the base of the stairs, the air was immediately knocked from his lungs, leaving him frozen and breathless.

The arch remained, standing, as it had been last time he’d found himself in this room, its veil moving ever so slightly as if just touched by a breeze, as if unaware of the chaos taking place just outside its chamber doors. The room began to shake with laughter as the Death Eaters descended on him. Harry, his legs shaking dangerously beneath him, climbed back onto the dais that held the arch, its voices whispering in his ears, calling out to him as he retreated.

“The game is over Potter,” Lucius Malfoy called out to him, stepping forward from the crowd. His normally immaculate hair was ruffled, blood dripping from his temple. “Hand over the prophecy.”

Harry shook his head, raising his wand as the Death Eaters circled. He was done, and they all knew it, but Harry would be damned before he went down any other way than fighting.

“HARRY!” his head shot to the entrance of the room where Neville stood, staggering forward. “You leb ‘em alone!”

“NEVILLE! Please! Go back to Ron! Get out of here!” he called back, fear dripping from his lips.

The Death Eaters crackled at Neville’s approach. “Longbottom isn’t it?” Called out Malfoy, as a Death Eater lunged out pulling him into the crowd. “Well, your grandmother is used to losing family members to our cause, I doubt your death will come as much of a surprise.”

“NO!” Harry screamed, but the Death Eaters paid him no mind.

Malfoy approached, wand drawn, the sleeves of his robe pushed back to his elbows. “I’ve had a very frustrating day, you see Mr. Longbottom-”

“-wait, wait, Lucius! If that boy is one of them, a Longbottom, I think it’s only fair if we see if he can outlast mummy and daddy.” Bellatrix interrupted with a wide grin. “Unless that is Mr. Potter wants to give over that prophecy?”

“DON”D GIB ID DO DEM! _DON’D GIB ID DO DEM!”_

_“CRUCIO!”_

Neville screamed, dropping to the ground in a twitching heap. Bellatrix giggled and taunted Harry, but it was all lost to him under the roar of blood in his ears. They’d lost, they weren’t getting out, it was all his fault! The prophecy felt hot in his hand as he extended his arm outward towards the waiting grasp of Lucius Malfoy. Anything to get the screaming to stop.

A loud crash echoed around the room, and Harry jerked his hand back intensively. Doors blew open around them, Members of the Order flooding through at every opening. Harry felt like crying, but his relief was shattered as Malfoy lunged at him forcing him back into the fight.

A stunner courtesy of Tonks knocked the man away, leaving Harry reeling as he dove off the dais out of the way. Spells flew wildly through the air, and Harry watched a black haired man he didn’t know pulled Neville to his feet and off to the side. An arm appeared suddenly and wrapped itself around Harry’s throat and began to squeeze, cutting off his air.

“Give it to me!” the man hissed. “Give me the damn prophecy!” Tonks was busy across the room, as was Moody. Kingsley was dueling Bellatrix, Lupin was busy with Dolohov, and Sirius- Sirius looked at him with wide eyes, unable to get closer busy fighting two Death Eaters at once.

“HARRY!” Sirius yelled, and Harry clawed at the man's arm but the lights were beginning to fade, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe! Suddenly the arm was gone, and Harry dropped to the ground. Sirius it seemed, hadn’t been calling out to him, but to the stranger. The black-haired man from earlier gave a wide slash with his wand, opening a deep gash from the Death Eater’s shoulder to gut, blood spilling out onto the stones.

“You good?” the man called down to him as he surveyed the room for any approaching attacks. “Harry?” the man asked, a little more instantly when he didn’t answer.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” he said, rubbing his tight throat.

The man gave a nod and hoisted Harry to his feet with unexpected strength and pulled him off the side of the battle behind a barrier. “Do you still have it? The prophecy?” Harry nodded, drawing it out of his robe pocket where he’d stashed it when the fight began. “Good, give it here.” Harry hesitated for a moment. He’d didn’t know this man, but there was something oddly familiar about the cadence of his speech. “Harry, I’m just going to hide it. The Death Eaters know you have it, meaning you’re their number one target, and with that much focus on you, it’s inevitable that something will happen to it.”

Harry nodded, he could see the logic in the plan even if he was wary of the stranger. The man took the orb from him, sliding it into his own robe pocket, and pulled Harry along with him to the next pillar as the fighting grew nearer. Then, in one of the strangest displays he’d ever seen, the man clapped his hands together as if in prayer, and slammed them into the ground. A flash of blue lightning streaked across the ground leaving a hole just larger than the orb. With care, the man lowered the prophecy into the ground, and with another clap sealed it up again. Harry stared at him with wide eyes, and with a grin, the man raised a gloved finger to his lips and ran off the rejoin the fight. Harry stood there dumbfounded, convinced he must have misseen. But the grin, and those gloves… could it be? Ed?

\---

“Hey, Harry!” Ed yelled over his shoulder, pausing momentarily on his way to help the woman he’d been introduced to as Tonks, “Grab the other kid and get out of here, we’ll cover you!”

Harry didn’t argue, much to his relief, and ran off towards the boy Ed had pulled out of the fighting minutes before. He couldn’t stop to see if they had gotten out, as he was forced to dive out of the way of a green burst of light from the wand of Bellatrix. He hit the ground awkwardly, unused to the lankier build he was sporting thanks to Moody Polyjuice Potion stash. Sirius had helped him to carefully remove each of his Automail limbs so the potion could do its job, as transfiguration hadn’t been an option this time without an expert on standby. The potion could do little with the metal ports that remained, causing strange bulges in his limbs were the new organic material had formed over the top of them. The port, attached to his nerves as they were, limited the feeling in either of the new limbs making them slightly harder to use than he was used too.

Ed brought his arm up to cast a shield charm stopping Bellatrix's next spell from nailing him in the head. Across the way, Remus caught his eye and sent a stunner flying at the witch, giving Ed enough time to climb back onto this feet. There was no passion in the way she fought him, none of the manic giddiness she possessed as she hurled curses at the other Order members. To her, Ed was just a face in the crowd, an obstacle standing between her, and more interesting targets. And that, Ed, could use to his advantage. Ed was used to dueling Olivia, who, while not possessing the cruelty of Bellatrix, fought with the sole purpose of catching him off guard. In the past few months, Ed was pleased to say he’d learned some tricks.

Bellatrix attacked first, sending a signature _Crucio_ flying at his head. Ed, rather than block the spell danced out of its way sending a spout of water from his wand into the witches feet. Cutting it off as she stumbled, he cast _Duro_ hardening the water to a point like stone. A transformation whose logistics were better puzzled out in a lab than a battlefield. Bellatrix sent a killing curse his way, forcing Ed to move and leaving the witch open as she blasted her way out of Ed’s trap.

_“Locomotive Mortis!”_ Ed hissed at the same time she threw a stunner. Both spells missed their targets, but as they prepared to strike again, they were caught off guard by a sudden frenzy overtaking the room.

“Dumbledore!-”

“-He’s Here-”

“-Someone grab the prophecy!”

Ed took advantage of the chaos to hurl the stunner at the witch, his skin beginning to crawl being so near to the Dumbledore's power.

_“Protego!”_ Ed’s spell ricocheted back at him off Bellatrix's shield, causing him to stumble out of the way or be struck by his own spell.

_“Stupify!”_ He spat over his shoulder at her, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Dumbledore had joined the battle wholeheartedly now. _“Expelliarmus!”_ Bellatrix gave a little half gasp as her wand was ripped from her hand, clattering down on the stones meters away. Ed barely had time to grin, and no time at all to think of raising his wand, before he was sent hurtling through the air.

Ed distantly heard a familiar voice scream his name. However, in his disjointed state of mind, he could only think of how pissed Moody would be at them later. He’d corner them in the Black living room and berate them for being so stupid. Yelling, that it was hardly worth the trouble of disguising Ed if everyone was so content to just scream his name at the first opportunity. And Sirius would nod his head very serious like, then the moment Moody turned his back he’d be cracking jokes. Because- that was right, that voice was Sirius’s...

The moment Ed had the presence of mind to realize this, however, was the moment Ed also had the presence of mind to realize that his _arm_  was gone.

He blinked dumbly at where the blood pooled from the freshly created stump halfway up his upper right arm. He blamed it on the interference of his port that he wasn’t feeling much at the moment. But a second look told him the size of the bloody pool forming around him might have something to do with it also. It was almost like watching it happen to someone else as a nameless Death Eater approached him with his wand drawn. The way the man's lips moved as they formed the _AV_ shape distant, like one of his Gate-induced fever dreams.

Then he was gone. Just. Like. That. The wizard was blown off his feet as Sirius skidded to the ground beside him. Ed rolled his head to face him, conscious of the fact he was staining his hair and face with blood. Over Sirius’s shoulder, he could see Harry dueling Lucius Malfoy, it seemed he hadn’t made it out after all.

“-D! Hey Ed! _Look at me,_ look at me.” Sirius’s hands were closed around his wound, Ed already having bleed through the conjured wrapping of bandages. "Nothing to worry about kid, everything's fine," he muttered with a weak smile. But, the wild-eyed way Sirus was looking at him, told another story. “You’re gonna be fine Ed. You’re gonna be just fine. Just stay with me here.”

“It’s ‘ine, doesn’t ma’er,” Ed mumbled out, his lips heavy and his brain slow, as he tried to voice the thought that had just crossed his mind.

“Shut up!” Sirius hissed sharply, “Of course it does! I’m not gonna let you die.”

Ed frowned, that wasn’t what he meant. “No, ‘y a’m, it’s gone.”

Sirius winced and let out a shaky breath. “I know ki-” the man's words ended abruptly, and he let out a small choked noise. A cold feeling passed down his spine like it had been encased in ice.

“Sirius?” he mumbled out. The man didn’t respond. _“Sirius?”_ Ed asked again, pleading for an answer, wishing he could reach out and shake him. The world felt oddly distant as he noticed Sirius’s hands had slipped from his stump and had made no move to return to their position. Ed could feel no quiet hum of magic.

Ed heard screaming. Broken terrible screaming he recognized as the cries of pain reserved for the loss of a loved one. Harry. The boy was fighting against Lupin’s grasp across the room, seemingly torn between his fallen godfather and the woman, the last Death Eater standing, who had killed him. Her face was split wide in a mad grin, almost like she could quite believe what she'd done either.

With a burst of desperate strength, Harry tore after Bellatrix, abandoning Lupin whose own eyes wandered to the body of his fallen friend. For a brief moment, Ed saw Remus’s eyes widen as they fell on him, the man turning abruptly and sprinting forward. Then, his eyes slid shut, and blackness consumed him.

Faintly, ever so faintly, Ed could have sworn he heard the whisper of his mother's voice on from the other side of that strange vail. Whispering for him to hang on just a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a little more to go now...


	41. Daylight Fading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this a bit early because of finals week, enjoy.

Ed woke suspended, drifting quietly through the air. His head felt fuzzy and his limbs weak. A dull pain hummed quietly along his right side, and turn of his head showed that the bleeding, through some unknown spell, had been stopped at last.

His gentle haze was broken as he floated over the crumpled form of a Death Eater with, what could only be described as, a baby’s head. His breath caught in fear, he was floating, past Death Eaters, in a stone room. His heart rate increased violently and Ed threw himself to the side in an attempt to break out of the spells grasp, remembering with painful clarity the last time he’d been in this situation. He was down and arm, meaning that unless he could manage to scratch out a transmutation circle, Alchemy wasn’t an option. They wouldn’t have left him access to his wand, but if he could catch them off guard, maybe get a few hits in…

“Mr. Elric I would advise you that thrashing around with only aggravate your injuries further.” Ed froze as he found himself looking into the eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

The older man smiled at him, but his eyes were tight and regretful. “Sir… what’s going on?” Ed asked.

“There is quite the crowd outside now, and I figure that after the rather exceptional job you’ve been doing staying under the radar, you would hardly like it ruined by being floated past the press unconscious.” Ed skewed up his brow, the adrenaline rush over, he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open again. “I volunteered to help round up the last of the Death Eaters throughout the ministry and I took you off Lupin’s hands, so he could slip away before inquiries began.”

“Sirius…” Ed mumbled, eyes widening as he remembered what had happened upon the dais.

Dumbledore frowned, “I’m sorry, I know the two of you were close.”

Ed dropped his head back and skewed his eyes shut. He should have known it was going to happen, it was like everyone he grew close to was entered into a giant game of roulette.

“You’re in no risk of bleeding out now Edward, just rest for a while.” The old man said quietly, I’ll leave you at Grimmauld Place tonight, and you can figure out what to from there. I’ll inform the others to let you rest-”

“-I can’t,” Ed said mournfully, interrupting him. “I have to get back, they might have already realized I’m gone.”

“Who?”

Ed opened and closed his mouth uselessly. “-Can’t, not right now.” he frowned. “The time isn’t right. It’ll just be more trouble for everyone.”

Dumbledore nodded but didn’t resume walking. “Edward, to be perfectly honest, we aren’t sure what to do with you.” he paused. “You were never supposed to be here, and now everything’s been thrown off its axis. Perhaps not noticeable now, but these sort of things can cause ripples that become waves. And I know we promised to look after you, something it seems we’ve quiet miserably failed at, but you have to understand that, unknown variables… at this point, they can’t be allowed.”

Ed frowned, and tried to move, to see Dumbledore’s face because his voice sounded so odd. Just blank. Then a blue haze wove across his limbs holding Ed in place preventing him from moving even as he thrashed with all his might. “What? -What’s happening? What are you doing?”

“Forgive me, Edward.”

It was different than last time. Last time Dumbledore had been trying to be subtle, undetected. Now, he didn’t bother. Objectively Ed understood the point of Dumbledore’s actions. He hadn’t exactly been the most forthcoming with them, and as he’d said, unknown variables were dangerous. But at the moment, Ed couldn’t find it in himself to care. It hurt as Dumbledore swam his way through his mind, pulling apart memories and thoughts to look over, assess and categorize. It wasn’t a physical hurt, he knew deep in his rational mind that Dumbledore was being careful, almost kind in his procedure. Careful not to cause any undue stress. But for Ed, whose mind was his refuge, his last weapon in all things, it was an invasion as personal as they came.

Like last time, Ed saw flashes of his life, glimpses into things that had already happened as he struggled to keep his things locked in their places. He needed something, anything, some way to make it stop. Reaching out Ed latched onto the first thing he could.

He was standing inside the Dancing Mule, a memory of the place. Ashley was manning the bar, his movements a perfect loop like Ed's brain compensating for something he was aware of but didn’t really remember happening. Olivia sat across from him from months ago. Her black curls hanging erratically around her face as the bun perched on top of her head collapsed. She was spinning a ring, his ring, the one Mrs. Flamel had given him before the Malfoy gala, and its weighted front kept causing the spinning to falter and fall onto the table top.

“Can you always tell when someone lies?” He asked a frown painted across his face. Ed took a step forward towards his younger self, he remembered this. She’d caught him in a lie about not having any family, a lapse of judgment on his part, it was easy to forget about her abilities in the course of a normal conversation.

“Normally, yes,” she said, not looking up from his ring. “Unless they’ve got some mastery in Occlumency, most minds are an open book. I can’t see details, it’s just, more of a feeling than anything. A positive or negative vibe.”

Ed watched himself reach forward and catch his ring, drawing her eyes to his. “And If I needed to be able to stop that from happening, in the future I mean, I would just have to learn Occlumency?”

She laughed. “Just learn Occlumency? Kid, it takes the best Wizard’s years to learn that, I don’t really think that’s the solution you should be focusing on.”

Then what?”

“A Wall.”

“What?”

“Rather than try to stop people from looking, just show them something,” she said. “Imagine a wall, the biggest sturdiest barricade you can imagine, and show it to them. Really push it into their face, until they have to pull out of your head entirely to get around it.”

“That really works?” he’d asked

Olivia shrugged, “I mean, it’s not foolproof, but it’s a lot easier than Occlumency. A lot quicker to learn too. Here, try it on me....”

With a snap, Ed was lost again within the flow of his memories. But now Ed knew what to do. Chasing Albus was like staring at the sun, and while it burned there was no way for the wizard to hide his path from him. And, for all his magic and power, he could never know more about Ed’s mind then the Alchemist did.

Ed’s arm snaked out and took hold of the wizard's robes, and he could sense the surprise and intrigue in the man’s mind as he did so. He caught a glimpse of the things Albus was seeing, Flamel, Elia, the Rosier's burned corpses- No wall could hold this man. Olivia’s advice had been a bandage, he needed to cauterize. So he drew up his memory of the one thing he was sure could stop the master sorcerer in his tracks. He introduced him to The Gate.

Wizard and Alchemist stood frozen together in the expanse. The white, all-encompassing, endless, and suffocating. “That’s enough.” Ed spat out, his cheeks were damp. He’d never wanted to see any of that ever again. “We’re done here.”

Dumbledore turned to him, the oddest expression on his face, not really focusing on Ed. “You really are like Nicholas…” he murmured. His eyes locked on the gold of Ed’s like he was finally seeing what was in front of him. “He was from your world, wasn’t he? Amestris?”

Ed gave a slow nod.

“This place, it’s called The Gate correct?”

“Yes,” Ed answered suspiciously, “How do you-”

“Many years ago when I was young and stupid, I had a dear friend-” Dumbledore's voice broke. “He, and I, I admit, had become fascinated with the idea of Immortality. We wrote to Nicholas many, many times, but he never answered. It didn’t bother us much though, we thought we’d found a better way, but- My, friend, He had idea’s.” The words stung with regret as they passed the wizard's lips. “He went mad, my friend. Quite mad- in his quest for power. In the end I was the only one who could stand against him…” he trailed off, but still, Ed said nothing. “After it was all over, I managed to track down Nicolas. I was angry, and, yes, heartbroken, I was convinced that had he simply, simply I thought, simply have answered our letters, my friend, he’d have never… Flamel was a bitter man when I’d met him, and when I continued to badger him, he showed me this…”

“Why?”

“To scare me off I take it, Perhaps to impose upon me the enormity of what I was asking,” he said with a bitter laugh. “Or maybe he was just drunk.”

“What did he tell you about this place?” Ed asked, Flamel had never seemed the sharing type, he’d always assumed the only reason he’d told Ed anything, was because he was from home.

“He didn’t say much, just showed me all the bodies it took to get here.”

“This is the price of your immortality…” Ed said, thinking that’s what Flamel must have meant by the display.

“Exactly.”

There was silence between them for a moment, then, “This is as far as you go. You've seen enough of my head, you know where I've been, with whom I've been with, I trust that's enough to satisfy you?”

Dumbledore gave a small laugh, not quite normal for him, but better than the broken one from before. “I never expected you to go to the Death Eaters.”

Ed frowned, “I didn’t have much choice.”

“No, no, I don’t suppose you did. Nicholas made quite sure of that.” he paused. “I imagine he thought he was doing you a favor.”

Ed shook his head. “He did.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Perhaps not the favor he intended, but I am far closer to getting home now than I ever would have been locked away in Grimmauld Place.” His words were defiant, and Ed meant them. He knew the Dumbledore was only acting in the best interest of the Order, and he couldn’t fault him for that. But the Order’s interests were not his own. “I am not a Death Eater, nor do I support their agenda, but right now, they provide me a freedom you never would.”

“If you act against us Mr. Elric, then you are our enemy,” Dumbledore said, his voice, while not cold, had lost his usual warmth.

“I know.” He said, his voice only slightly regretful. “And I won’t if I can help it. But, if acting against you means I can get home… then I really only have one choice.”

“You always have choices, Mr. Elric, between what is good and what is easy.”

Ed laughed bitterly. “That’s where you have the wrong impression, Sir, you think any of my choices are good.”

\---

Dumbledore had returned him to Grimmauld place, as he’d promised, though neither of them spoke after exiting Ed’s mind. The wizard departed shortly after, to speak to the Minister he’d said, There were a whole lot of people demanding answers now that everyone knew that Voldemort was back.

He sat alone on his bed in Sirius’s home waiting for the potion to wear off. The house’s energy, while never particularly positive felt, off now, like it realized its master was gone. The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black had lost its last member.

He let his thoughts drift as he waited, replaying the battle in his mind, trying to figure out where it had all gone wrong. The odd’s were in their favor when they arrived initially, despite being outnumbered they had the element of surprise. And because no war had officially begun, the resistance against the Death Eater’s had been mostly passive, meaning Voldemort’s fighters were largely out of practice. They may have been skilled in causing chaos and pain, but they lacked the ability to work as a cohesive unit, all of them vying for power and glory from the Dark Lord at every opportunity.

Remus had wanted to leave him behind, Sirius wanted to let him fight, and Moody had been paranoid about leaving Ed unattended in the Order’s base of operations. So in the end, he’d come along. As he replayed the fight over and over, he couldn’t honestly say if it would have turned out better had he not been there. A quite thump alerted Ed to the fact the potion had worn off, as beside him lay a heap of blood-soaked bandages, the remnants of Sirius’s last spell.

Carefully as he could, Ed locked his automail back into place. Wincing through gritted teeth at the pain it caused, this was not a job for one person. Shakily he rolled down his pant leg and hobbled out into the sitting room, the house eerily silent but for the fire crackling in the hearth. There was a sense of finality as Ed reached into the powder bucket on the mantel and cast it into the flame. Just as he was about to step inside he was struck with a memory and jogged over to the dinner table and scratched out a note. The business now done, he departed from the house of Black.

The Flamel house greeted him with a breath of dusty air. The floorboards near the door still dotted with soot from the night of the Rosier fire. While the ancient magic of the Flamel’s still lingered in the building, it had dissipated, the land, and the building itself possessing a more wild nature than he’d ever known it to before.

A quick glance out the window revealed Mrs. Flamel’s garden wild and overgrown, spilling out from her carefully pruned lines. The flowers glowed iridescent in the starlight, vines reaching out as if to strangle the foundations of the home. And as Ed took it all in, he decided to himself that there was no more fitting an end for the house of the immortals than for it to be swallowed up by nature herself.

But he was not here to linger, this was only a way stop. So he tossed another handful of powder into the flame and wished himself away to Malfoy Manor where he would find his absence unnoticed, and a pale Narcissa Malfoy waiting for news of her husband, alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, folks... Next week will wrap this part all up, and then I'll be off for a bit before part two comes out and we can move into Half-Blood Prince Era!  
> Thank You for all the support and love this fic has gotten, I never imagined this kind of reaction when this was first posted. You are all amazing,  
> Pree


	42. Epilogue

Ed sat alone in his study, running his fingers quickly along the aged pages of Flamel’s notebooks, stopping only once and awhile for confirmation on a word's definition from the Dwarf. It had been roughly a month since the Department of Mysteries, since Sirius’s death, and Ed had heard nothing but silence from the Order. It hardly surprised him, If the Prophet was anything to judge by Voldemort had returned in full force now. Each paper headlined a new attack, a new mass slaughtering of Muggle and Wizard alike.   
  
He’d received a letter from Lucius a few days ago, confirming that the man had in fact managed to smuggle himself out of the Department to safety. The handwriting had been so shaky, that even without Malfoy’s paranoid ramblings of being under watch by the ministry, Ed could see the Death Eater wasn’t faring so well. He couldn’t help the tinge of satisfaction that rose in his gut at the thought of the man decrepit and wasting away in fear. Good people had died on that raid he’d led, good people Ed had liked, and regardless of any political or strategic alliances, that was never a good place to be standing.  
  
A light knock drew Ed out of his darkening thoughts, and with a flick of his Thunderbird wand, he opened the door for Amah who’s large ears were prominently silhouette in the dying daylight. She walked forward hesitantly, even after all this time she still found his study unnerving. If Ed had to take a guess, he’d say she felt magic similarly to him. She likely didn’t know what to make of his Alchemy.  
  
“For you Sir,” She said, extending her arm outward. To Ed’s delight, she didn’t lower her eyes from him, meeting his gaze rather than hiding from it.  
  
The first thing she handed to him was the day's issue of the Prophet, its front page flashing predictably with a black and white image of a bridge collapsing while people screamed and ran for cover.  
  
**SEVEN MUGGLES DEAD, THIRTY INJURED IN LATEST ATTACK**  
  
Ed didn’t read further, he knew the article that followed would be much the same as the last ten. Instead, he turned his attention to the second piece of mail Amah had brought him. The letter was wrapped in a tan envelope, its method of address familiar in its distinctiveness.  
  
Dear Mr. Elric,  
  
The letter began.  
  
Please find the following in preparation for your sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
Ed gave a slow blink. He supposed that with everything- after everything that had happened… He would never have guessed Dumbledore would let him into Hogwarts. There was keeping your enemies close, but this?   
  
As Ed reached to set the letter on his desk, a small slip of paper tumbled out from the bottom.  
  
Dear Mr. Elric,  
  
Hogwarts was an institution created and formed by four very different people, each hoping to pass on a magical education to the next generation. While the ideologies of these people may have differed, Hogwarts has come to represent a cohesive and inclusive magical institution that has vowed to never turn away a child seeking an education. I do not know your purpose in coming here, but unless you pose an active threat to the student body, you will always find the doors here open.  
  
I hope our personal conflicts with not affect our ability to have a fulfilling year,  
  
Yours Sincerely,  
  
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

 

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read this and supported me through this writing prossess weather it be though Kudos, Bookmarks, Subscriptions, or Comments, I love you all.
> 
> Ed will be back in Through the Gate: Sorcery and Sigils

**Author's Note:**

> So that's the first chapter, I'm sorry for any OOC moments or grammar/spelling issues  
> Comments are a girls best friend.


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